True Love Never Dies
by Alba aka Luthien Miriel
Summary: Passion - violence - lust - jealousy - hate: In the heart of a pitiless and bloody war, Draco Malfoy; a cruel Death Eater, and Hermione, Harry Potter's serious wife, find time and strength to fall in love. *PLEASE REVIEW*
1. Chapter 1 A Glimpse of Gold

_Disclaimer: this fanfic is based on the Harry Potter series, but it's also quite independent, which means I use the characters but not the stories directly. So, I don't own any of the characters, I guess, but a few characters I've invented might appear if you people read and review nicely!!! _J__

_PS: I apologize if there are errors in my fanfic; but my native languages are Spanish and German, and I've read the HP series in Italian, so that I don't know the correct names of some items._

Chapter 1- A Glimpse of Gold

_I've __reached what I always wanted: I'm a successful Auror, I'm married to the famous Harry Potter whom I think I love, and I've managed to learn as much as I wanted about the wizards' history. What more can I expect from life?_

Hermione Potter turned around in her bed and hid her face under her pillow, listening to Harry's regular breathing, and wondered what she wanted more than what she already had. She had all she needed, and more. 

She was aged 22, and had become Mrs. Harry Potter one year ago. Harry had simply asked her to walk down the aisle, and since he was the most wonderful person she knew, she had accepted. He was brave, clever, handsome, and a great wizard. It was all she wanted. She had never wondered whether she was in love with him or not. She had never thought this could matter. Hermione had never really been in love. Of course, she had had some crushes, like Krum, the famous Quidditch seeker, and some others which she didn't even remember. But it had never been _love_, she thought now. She had never really felt passion; she had never thought she would die for someone. And now it was too late, because she was married, and she couldn't possibly betray her husband. And besides, the man she would care for did not seem to exist.

Being an Auror was not as magnificent as she had thought it would be. It _was_ breathtaking, but not always in the good sense of the word. There was a lot of paper work to do, and then, there were the killings. Death Eaters had to be brought to Azkaban, normally, but sometimes, she had to kill because otherwise, it would be her who wouldn't see the daylight again. The Death Eaters were terrible, cruel and Voldemort's servants, but they were humans anyway. Like her. But they had chosen the dark side.

Hermione turned around in her bed again, and finally fell asleep.

***

It was nearly nine o'clock, and Hermione wanted to go home after nearly all the other Aurors had left the office, when someone called her:

"Mrs. Potter! Hey, Mrs. Potter!"

Hermione shot around, still not really familiarized with her new surname. It felt somehow strange to be married to Harry, to have his name. Sometimes, she couldn't imagine passing her whole life with him, though she hadn't ever regretted marrying him. She had always thought it was the right thing, and now… now she had doubts.

"What is it, Mildred?"

Her pretty, blonde assistant bit her bottom lip and said shyly with a squeaky voice, as if she was afraid of disturbing Hermione:

"Miss Weasley has seen Death Eaters in Battersea, and she asks you to join her."

Hermione sighed. Ginny had not changed much in the last years. She too, as well as Ron, had become an Auror, though she was only 21, but she wasn't really skilled. She got easily scared and was shy and timid, but she had gained Hermione's friendship by staying a sweet and optimistic person who would not let pessimism overwhelm her even at the end of the world.

"Can't anyone else go?" Hermione asked tiredly. "She wasn't in the right mood to haunt Death Eaters."

"Miss Weasley has asked for you especially, Mrs. Potter."

"Well, alright, Mildred. I'm going. Let my husband be told that I'll be back in a few hours."

_My husband._ It was one of the first times she called Harry so, but she wasn't delighted at the sound of this word. Maybe it was because she didn't really love him, although she had thought she did so for long.

Mildred Prebble nodded seriously, tossed her blonde mane and then went away, hardly walking with her high heels.

Hermione grabbed her wand, remembered a few new spells she had learned to paralyze Death Eaters without harming them, and then she wrapped up in a dark jacket. Then she took a handful of Floopowder and threw it in the fire after having clearly said:

"Battersea Park."

A green fire flamed up around her, and then suddenly, she found herself in the very middle of a pretty park with very green grass and tall willows and birches. She looked around herself, enjoying the peace and the beauty of the park, and she wondered how the Death Eaters dared to soil such a nice place. Sighing again, she temporarily blamed herself for having appeared somewhere where Muggles could see her easily, but fortunately, the park was desert. After all, it was quite late.

She advanced carefully, and then said a spell which was destined to lead her to the Death Eaters:

"Comemorturi aparire!"

Immediately, a reddish shining point appeared in front of her, and then flew towards the east. She followed it running, because it was fast, noticing with worry it was leading her to a quite dark road. Then it vanished, a clear sign the race ended there.

"Lumos!" She whispered, but the magical glow did not light up the street as much as she wanted it to.

She gazed around her, but she could neither see nor hear anything suspicious. She raised her wand protectively, but obviously, there wasn't anything dangerous over there. She thought Ginny had been wrong once more, and she was about to walk away when a hand wrapped around her face, preventing her of screaming. She floundered about, but her opponent was stronger than her, and she hated herself for having been so imprudent (because she had seemingly fallen into the Death Eaters' hands) when a male voice muttered behind her:

"Granger?"

The hand suddenly let her go, and she turned around to face the Death Eaters. There was only one of them, clad in black, as always, a hood hiding his face. She wondered how he knew her name, but she didn't lose time, and she was about to pronounce a paralyzing spell when she caught a glimpse of silver-blonde hair under the hood, and she stopped. The Death Eater slowly took of his hood, and stepped into the light of her Lumos, troubling Hermione more than she had thought any man could do. His features were hard, but regular and harmonious, his nose long and slightly pointy, his cheekbones high, his silver-gray eyes shining of intelligence, his lips full, soft but firm. His silver-blonde hair was long and combed back, and she felt a sudden urge to run her fingers through it.

"Draco? Malfoy?"

She couldn't believe it. It was really him.

He smiled, unleashing very white little teeth, and then said with a cold, fiery voice:

"Surprised, Granger?"

"Why have you let me go?"

"I was surprised myself."

She frowned, and then said, her voice nearly trembling:

"And what are you waiting for now?"

"Won't you try to paralyze me?"

_Yes, she thought. I should. It is my duty. I have to catch him now or he will harm innocent people._

"Go" she said nevertheless. "Go quickly."

He smirked again, and then put his hood over his gorgeous face. Then he vanished.

Hermione stared at the place where Draco had stood, and wondered why the hell she had let him go. Perhaps because he hadn't killed her though he had had the possibility. He had let her go, and she had had to return the favor. Or perhaps something else had prevented her from catching him, she did not know.

***

Draco Malfoy put off his black hood for the second time during this day, and he stared at his Master, trying to look humble though he was a very proud young man, who defied anyone, and always won. He had never missed a prey until this day.

"Death Eater Malfoy has come", a dark-haired beauty said to Voldemort, who was sitting on his throne, his back turned towards Draco.

There was a brief silence, and then Voldemort's voice, cruel and pitiless, echoed in the throne room.

"Why have you let the Auror go?"

"I… she has freed herself. I couldn't do anything."

"But the plan was perfect. We attired her to a desert and dark place where no one could help her. How could she free herself?"

"She put a spell I didn't know on me."

The throne suddenly began rotating on its own edge, so that, Voldemort, hidden in the shadows, could face the wizard that was his certainly best Death Eater.

"I don't know if I really believe you", he hissed.

Draco Malfoy bent his head lowly, and didn't answer, hardly bearing the Master's hard glance on him.

Finally, Voldemort turned around again, and this was the end of the interrogatory.

Draco left the throne room, troubled by the meeting with the Auror. It was not a current Auror he had missed: this was Hermione Potter, Malfoy's greatest enemy's wife. And he had let her go. He didn't understand why, why he had disobeyed and lied to his Master. This mudblood didn't matter to him, did she? So why the hell had he let her free?

He remembered every second of their short meeting: how her auburn hair had flamed in the light of the magic gleam, how her soft eyes had looked at him, and how, for the first time since he knew her, he had thought she was beautiful.

Draco was known as a seducer, who had slept with most of the women of his office. He was gorgeous, tempting and smart. There wasn't one woman he couldn't get if he wanted to. But he had never thought he loved one of his girlfriends. He had had nearly only one night-stands; rarely one of his stories had lasted more time. It had never worried him before, he was just happy like that. Well, perhaps happy wasn't the right word. He survived, and he wasn't discontented with his life.

Hermione Potter certainly wasn't more beautiful than his previous girlfriends, rather the opposite. Draco had always chosen the most gorgeous of all, in order to amuse himself as much as possible. He didn't think much of inner beauty; he thought all of them were inferior to him anyway. Hermione was pretty, but not dazzlingly beautiful. But she had… oh, he didn't know. She was different. Special. Out of his reach.

_N.B.: So, what do you think? Is it really bad or just so-so? The next chapter will be better, I promise it. Please review, this would make me a really happy person. _J__


	2. Chapter 2: Dealing with the Enemy

Chapter 2- Dealing With the Enemy

_Disclaimer: thanks to Christa- I must specify one point: I'm German and Spanish, and I've been learning English for about one year, so, although it's quite embarrassing, I don't know what quotation marks are, so I can only hope it's ""._

_And Vix- thanks for the compliment. I'll try to upload regularly._

_PS: I apologize for the mistakes._

Harry Potter tenderly watched his wife, and thought once more how much he loved her. He remembered the day when they had met, in the Hogwarts Express, when he would never have thought the girl with the rabbit-like teeth and the grind-looks would ever be more than just a medium friend to him. Well, he had been wrong. First, Hermione had become one of his two best friends in the world, and they had become so close that they would have died for each other. Then, Harry had felt he was falling in love with her. He had asked her to marry him, and had thought a man couldn't be as blissful as he was when she had agreed. And now, he loved Hermione more than his life. More than anything.

He gently kissed her cheek without waking her up, he got dressed and then he went to work. He had become an Auror at the same time as Hermione, with nearly as good marks as her. They were worthy of each other, everybody said it. A marriage between the two had been expected for long, so it wasn't a surprise for anybody when they had received the invitation to the nuptials of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, both aged 21. Hermione's parents, Muggles, had not immediately agreed, because they thought Hermione was much too young to wed, but then they had agreed that there would never be a husband which would be better for their daughter than Harry Potter.

Hermione had never been as much as a beauty, but Harry hadn't been able of taking his eyes of her when she had walked towards the altar, towards _him_, like a vision of heaven, delicious in her simple but pretty white dress. A crown of white daisies had adorned her brow, and Harry kept in mind how one of the flowers had fallen down, and how he had picked it up and smelled its delicious perfume…

Suddenly, the ringing of his mobile phone tore him away from his day-dreams.

"Hello?"

"Hi Harry, this is Ron. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. And you?"

"Alright. I just wanted to tell you you should send someone to catch this dangerous Death Eater we talked about yesterday."

"But Hermione did it yesterday."

"Herm? No, she missed him."

"Missed him? But she knew that new spell…"

"Well, I don't know, the fact is that she missed him but he fled before harming her."

"Oh. Right. I wonder why she hasn't told me, but never mind. Where has he been sighted last?"

"Well, your wife met him close to the Battersea Park, but he'll be far away now."

"Why, I won't go. It's Hermione's territory, so she should just send one of her disciples."

Ron agreed, and then hung up, leaving a surprised Harry with his thoughts.

The plan of catching the famous Death Eater had seemed infallible to him, and besides, Hermione was a skilled and experienced Auror, so how the hell had she managed to let him flee?

***

Hermione had always disliked make up, but this day, she felt the urge of putting on some mascara. When she had finished, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled satisfied. She hadn't ever wanted to be especially beautiful either, she thought. It was strange she suddenly wanted to look well, but, instead of fighting this new push for, she put on her pretties clothes, black leather trousers, a red top and a black jacket. Then she combed her rebellious brown curls into a half-pony-tail. She looked different than usually, with her make up, her hairstyle and her nice clothes, but certainly better. Smiling, she walked down the stairs and was about to cross the street to take her car when she met Ginny Weasley, who lived quite close to the Potters.

"Hi, Hermione", the girl said.

Hermione smiled at her, in an excellent mood. She thought how pretty the youngest of the Weasleys had grown, at the opposite of her brother Ron, whose face was full of spots. Ginny's straight hair shone like fire in the sun, her white skin and her dark eyes made her look a bit like a modern version of Snow-white with red hair. She was dressed simply, but with good taste, wearing a short blue gown with thin suspenders.

"Hi, Ginny. Don't you think it's a bit too cold to wear such a dress?"

Ginny smirked and blinked maliciously.

"It's because of that new Auror who works in my office. He's so fucking gorgeous I'd like to kiss him right now."

Hermione laughed gently, and invited Ginny into her car, because she knew the young girl had no money to have one herself.

"You know, she said, we went out yesterday evening", Ginny went on. "Well, we didn't really, because actually we only went to search a book, but it was nice nevertheless. And he promised to repair my mobile phone and to give it back today."

Hermione smiled, but then she frowned suddenly.

"Hang on", she muttered. "Your mobile phone doesn't work?"

"No. For one week I've had to strive without it, and, believe me, I really miss it."

"Did you call me yesterday evening?"

"No. Why?"

"Because Mildred told me you had called me because you needed help with a Death Eater."

Ginny's nearly non-existent eyebrows arched with surprise.

"Really? Well, _I_ didn't call. "

"That's weird. Well, perhaps she's confounded you with someone."

Ginny Weasley hunched her shoulders and continued telling her stories.

***

Harry sat down on his chair and stared at the crystal ball thanks to which the wizards communicated over a long distance and he sighed. He was already tired, and he hadn't even started working.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned around surprised.

"Mildred? What are you doing here?"

" An urgency, Sir. We've heard the famous Death Eater is torturing people in Battersea."

"Mildred, I know he's there. But I guess I've repeated too many times it is not my territory. Send Mr. Shafer or Miss Parker."

Mildred Prebble shook her pretty head and replied:

"No, Sir. They're busy. And since Mrs. Potter is your wife I've thought you might go."

Harry groaned angrily but he got up and grabbed his wand, glancing at Mildred as if it was her fault. Then he vanished. Mildred smiled in a way no one had ever seen on her when he left, and then she walked away, her high heels making an irritating noise on the parquet.

***

Hermione sat down on her desk, slightly motivated thanks to Ginny, who had once more influenced her with her indestructible optimism. 

"Life's beautiful, so why the hell should we use time complaining about it?" she used to say whenever Hermione told her of all she would criticize if ever she was allowed to talk to God (she didn't believe in God, but she protested anyway). 

"Hi, Herm", said Ron, sitting down in front of her. "I don't understand how you can smile like this at half past seven a.m."

Ron's laughing brown eyes were encircled by dark rings, his hair was obviously uncombed, and he had put his trousers inside-out. She decided to annoy him a bit:

"Are you aware that your robes are in a state and you haven't brushed your hair?"

"And yet it still looks better than yours...", he joked, though her hair was lovely.

"Have you forgotten to drink your coffee today, dear?" she asked mellifluously. "Cappuccinos usually wake up even the most sluggish wizard. Oh, damn it! You're a case for the asylum, even a strong cappuccino would not wake you up correctly."

Ron smiled amusedly, but then his expression darkened all at once.

"Have you heard about this Death Eater who haunts Battersea? Oh, of course you are. You met him yesterday. He's good, isn't he?"

Hermione blushed suddenly, ashamed of not having caught him when she had had the opportunity. 

"Well, he trapped me from behind; I couldn't do anything but let him go."

"Of course. I'm not criticizing you."

But it looked like he was; Hermione Potter couldn't help noticing it.

"What about a dinner tonight?" Ron proposed to cheer her up. "Stella has got a really fascinating new friend which I'd like to introduce to you and Harry. Oh, and Ginny and her new boyfriend could come to."

Stella was Ron's young wife, whom he had married directly after Hogwarts as a consequence of her unexpected pregnancy. She was a friendly but very shy and reserved plump young woman, whom both Harry and Hermione liked very much. Ron's and Stella's young son, Will, was now four years old, and a really adorable young boy, with his mother's light brown curls and his father's freckles.

"I'll ask Harry", Hermione answered, this thought angering her a bit (she hated depending from a man). "But I think it's alright."

"Fine. Then I'll tell Stella to cook something nice."

This notice was nearly useless, since Stella was an excellent cooker, and Hermione didn't understand how Ron could be so slim while living with her.

Hermione nodded tiredly and turned to her crystal ball, silently wondering whether she couldn't watch something more interesting than other Aurors while no one looked at her.

"Mrs. Potter! Mrs. Potter!"

Hermione sighed and turned around, already knowing it was Mildred.

"What-is-it?" she asked, trying to sound calm though she actually wanted to cut her throat of. ´

"Well, I just wanted to greet you, Mrs. Potter."

"Oh. Alright. Hello, Mildred."

"Oh, and I wanted to inform you that your husband has left this morning for Battersea, about half an hour ago, because he was chasing this famous Death Eater over there."

Mildred smiled stupidly and crossed her legs under her mini-skirt, and then looked at her red nails.

"Battersea?" Hermione repeated. "But it's my territory!"

"Yes, but you weren't here, and neither Miss Shafer not Mr. Parker were free, and so Mr. Potter had to go."

"Goodness", Hermione muttered while she got up nervously. 

What was she worrying about? Harry could very well care of himself: he was a very talented wizard, and everybody knew he was the well-known child who survived, and this only made him an excellent reputation, not only among the good wizards. Even the Death Eaters were quite afraid of him.

But Draco… Nobody could frighten him. He would face Harry without blinking, and he was one of the rare persons that could really endanger Hermione's young husband. He could even kill him. Or else Harry could kill _him_.

Hermione shot up, convinced she had to protect Harry though he was an even better wizard than her.

"In the park?" she asked to a confused Mildred.

"Yes, Mrs. In the park."

"Tell Miss Shafer and Mr. Parker to go on with their work. I'll be right back."

"Alright, Mrs. Potter. Have a nice day."

_Bitch,_ Hermione thought. _How could I have a nice day?_

Verifying that her wand was in her pocket, Hermione vanished, and immediately reappeared in the Battersea Park, where she had come the day before. It looked quite different by day, but she did not lose time contemplating it; instead, she pronounced the same spell as the day before, waiting for the shiny ball to lead her to Harry. And Draco.

But this time, the ball did not move an inch. It just stayed there, floating above her head, as if it didn't know where the two wizards were.

_Damn it,_ Hermione thought._ Where the hell are they?_

A terrible thought struck her suddenly:

_What if Harry's dead? What if _Draco i_s dead?_

She pushed it away furiously, and disappeared again, facing Mildred Prebble as she went back to the office.

"They're not in Battersea", she said.

"No? Well, that's weird."

"Maybe… maybe Harry has finished with the Death Eater. He surely has. Yeah, and that guy will be suffering in Azkaban by the time."

"Surely."

Mildred smiled again, but to Hermione, it looked like a cold smile, a smile which was not an incarnation of good temper and cheerfulness as usually, but a threatening. She stared at Mildred's pretty and well-known face, whom she had seen during so many years that she laughed about herself for having found something strange in her smile. She was dumb, that was all. There was nothing dangerous in her.

_After the years of hunting Death Eaters, I'm becoming paranoiac,_ she thought.

***

Draco Malfoy repelled the spell Harry Potter had thrown on him as easily as if it were nothing but a hampering fly.

"Is this all you can offer, Potter? Living with a Mudblood has made you worse."

"Don't insult Hermione!" Harry shouted, pronouncing a paralyzing spell.

"Aww, does the famous Harry Potter have a crush? Perhaps his infatuation for his _wife_ weakens him."

It was like he spitted the word "wife", but it wasn't clear whether it disgusted or angered him.

"Are you jealous, Ferret? I guess no woman would ever marry _you_."

"Well, I at least wouldn't humble myself marrying a mudblood."

"When will you learn something about humanity, Malfoy?"

"You mean weakness."

"You can't even understand it."

"No. That's why I'm such a great Death Eater while you've stayed a simple Auror. A famous one, but nothing special otherwise. And that's why I'm actually dating all the girls I want while you are miserably married to a mudblood."

Draco laughed cruelly, and threw a spell on Harry which missed him.

_That's enough,_ Harry thought._ He's going to far. Never mind our common past, I'm going to erase him from the world of the livings._

"Let's see if you can deal with that, Ferret", he said, and then pronounced the most frightening spell that had ever crossed his lips. "Avada Kedavra!"

As sparks coming from Harry's wand lit up the street, Draco's steel-gray eyes widened of fear for a moment, but then he began murmuring to stop the spell. He was seeing he would never get enough strength when suddenly, a scream interrupted Harry.

"No!"

Harry shot around and faced the pretty young woman that threw herself to his feet and grabbed his wand.

"Don't do it", she said. "Please."

"Hermione?" Harry stared at his wife and helped her up. "What the hell…?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. But please don't kill him. He's a human, after all."

"He's a Death Eater!"

"Paralyze him."

"Uhm, I'm sorry to interrupt this really moving conversation", Draco said, "But I don't need your pity, mudblood. I've got enough dignity to care of my own safety, thank you."

Hermione looked at Draco, and wondered why the evils always looked so good. He was gorgeous, she had to admit it, but that definitely wasn't going to stop her to give him his deserved punishment. Death was too much, but he should suffer in Azkaban for a while.

Draco smiled to her, and then he vanished suddenly.

"Herm!" Harry said. "Why the hell did you have to 

meddle in?"

She couldn't reply. She didn't know it herself. Why did she have to interfere in? Draco was a big, fat fucking bastard. Well, he wasn't fat. He was slim and muscled. Oh, but he was a bastard anyway. 


	3. Chapter 3: Morgan Wells

Chapter 3- Morgan Wells

_Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of repeating this, but I own no one of the characters that belong to Rowling. I do own Morgan and Mildred though._

_Thanks to: Dreaming One – you're so nice it makes me feel like a monster. I've looked at your stories and I think they're great! As for the end of the story, just keep reading and you'll know what happens… **hehehehe**_

_Miss Malfoy – if you read this, it means your wish is granted._

_Spoiled Brat of Norway – I'm sorry if my spelling could be better, I just insist on the fact I've been learning English for one year and so I think I'm doing my best._

_Darcel__ – thanks for the compliment, but I ADORE D/Hr. stories, especially tragedies or dramas._

_Corerith__ – I hope you'll keep on reading._

The ringing bell made Harry Potter shoot up and run to the door, but he slipped and fell down.

"Damn it!" he swore. "Damn it damn it damn it!"

"Don't swear, Harry, what will Ginny think?" asked Ron from the living room, where he was chatting with Hermione.

"I guess Ginny's got a lot more experience in this domain than you."

"Ouh, that was offending!"

Harry got up again and opened the door… there was only Ginny.

"Hi, Ginny. Where's your boyfriend?"

"He couldn't come. But meet Morgan Wells."

Harry looked around, not seeing anyone except Ginny, who was very cute in her short yellow dress which showed her long white legs.

"And where's the wonder girl?"

"Right behind you, Mr. Potter."

Harry shot around and found himself face to face with a tall, dark-haired woman.

"Hi", he said, not knowing what else to say. "I see you've found the way."

"Definitely."

"Oh."

She politely raised her long hand for him to shake it, and introduced herself:

"My name is Morgan Wells, but you can call me just Morgan."

"I'm Harry Potter, call me Harry. I guess you know me."

She nodded, but added nothing else, surprising Harry.

"Morgan's really a little wonder", Ginny said grabbing her friend's arm. "She comes from the high north, and she speaks about ten languages!"

"Eleven", Morgan corrected.

Ginny graced her with a radiant smile, and then led her to the dining room.

"Mimi! Ronnie!"

Mimi was Ginny's affectionate name for Hermione, and Ronnie… well, she just wanted to bother her brother.

"I've told you not to call me like this", Ron replied, but he stared at Morgan, realizing she was really _really_beautiful. The long curls of her dark hair fell softly onto her waist, her big, black eyes and her pale skin made her look somewhat like the legendary snow-white, but her scornful expression and her hard glance looked out of place in a fairy tale.

"Good evening", she said calmly. "May I introduce myself?"

"You definitely should", Ron answered shaking her hand vigorously.

"You must be Ronald Weasley", she said raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"My name is Morgan Wells".

"Oh, I know you!" Ron said excitedly. "You're a famous Auror. I saw one of the Death Eaters you caught in the TV."

She did not seem embarrassed at all, and only nodded.

"And who are you?" she asked to Hermione, who suddenly thought she wasn't as pretty as she had believed she was, if she compared herself to Morgan Wells.

"Hermione Granger. It's very nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine", Morgan Wells replied coldly.

***

"I went to Beauxbâtons when I was a child", Morgan explained because Harry had asked her about her past. "It is an excellent school, and many of my comrades became Aurors like me. But I moved back to England, my homeland, after… something like an unpleasing misfortune."

"Do you know Fleur Delacour?" asked Ron with a grin.

Morgan thought for a while, and then laughed sarcastically.

"Yes, I remember her. A real little bitch. Half-Veela, I think, that's why all the boys had a crush on her."

Ron blushed slightly as Hermione and Ginny looked at him, but Morgan Wells did not notice it.

"What kind of misfortune, Morgan?" Hermione asked.

"My parents were Death Eaters", the dark-haired girl continued without showing any signs of embarrassment, "and they wanted me of course to follow their fate, but I wouldn't agree. I was engaged to our neighbors' son, Draco Malfoy, but there was another occurrence and I fled to England. A few months ago, I met Ginny."

Hermione froze as she heard Draco's name. This Wells girl should have married him, but she fled. Perhaps she knew something else about him…

"We know Malfoy", Harry said sighing. "He's one of our worst enemies."

Morgan Wells looked up, not surprised at all, and stayed silent for a while, her dark eyes lost in the contemplation of the view.

"Malfoy was someone special", she admitted. "A brilliant wizard, smart and brave. And he looked so good. But he chose the wrong side, following his father Lucius. I grew up with him, and learned to admire and to fear him. Sometimes, I thought I loved him, because… damn him, I don't know why. I ought to have hated him since the first day as much as Voldemort. But I fell in love with him, so madly I thought I'd grow insane. We were engaged, and… he betrayed me. I always knew something would happen. He wasn't the kind of man who stayed faithful to a woman for his whole life. It… amused him to play with my feelings. I loved him, but now I hate him more than anyone else in the world."

_Voldemort__._ She had said his name, the name of We All Know Who, of the wizard who must not be named etc. She was not afraid of spelling his name, she didn't look afraid of anything. 

"He was a fucking bastard" Ron said elegantly. "A big arse."

"Ron!" Ginny criticized. "Never mind what Malfoy is, you shouldn't talk like that. What will Morgan think of us?"

"I don't get impressed as easily", Morgan replied slightly disdainfully.

"And did you lose the contact with Malfoy?" asked Hermione, who was more excited than she would accept she was.

"Yes, of course. I fled, and did my best not to hear anything of him, the Malfoys and my parents again."

"Ah."

"He appeared in Battersea a few days ago", Hermione explained. "I went to catch him, but I missed him."

"You aren't the first who missed him." Morgan consoled her. "He's got an excellent reputation among the Death Eaters, all the prisoners idolize him."

"Really…"

"The last time we met, I swore I'd catch him one day, and I will", Morgan said determinately. "I will capture him and bring him to Azkaban, even I it's the last thing I do. I will take my revenge."

No one of them thought it sounded excessively dramatic. Though they had known her for a very little time, they knew Morgan Wells was able of everything in a wizard's reach.

***

"Tell him of your plan, Green."

Voldemort's voice seemed to come from everywhere in the room, it sounded like a snake's hissing echoed thousands of times.

"I thought, milord, sir, it would be a good idea to cancel or better to capture all the wizards that are close friends or parents to Potter. It would not only hurt him psychically, it would also make him weaker, because there would be no one to defend him."

"What do you think, Malfoy?" Voldemort asked to the blonde wizard.

Malfoy bit his lips, and needed a while to answer. Yes, of course it was a good idea. An excellent idea. He had had it himself, but he hadn't proposed it. Why? He didn't know it himself. He didn't want to believe Potter or any of his friends mattered to him. Potter was a bastard, Ron and Ginny were weasels, and Hermione… Hermione was his wife. She had to be killed as well. It couldn't matter to him. It couldn't.

"I think it's a brilliant proposal, milord."

"Then, Malfoy, Green, what are you waiting for? Green, you will bring our first victim into Malfoy's hands. Malfoy will first bring the prisoner to me and then I'll decide about his or her fate. Go now."

The Death Eater called Green vanished immediately. Draco was about to follow his example, when he heard his Master's voice.

"Oh, and Malfoy?"

"Yes, Milord?"

"No sentimentalism, please. This time, I want you to catch your prey."

"Yes, Milord."

***

Ginny Weasley was the next who met Malfoy. Obviously, someone had the obsession of sending all the members of the Potters' friends circle to get together with Draco Malfoy. And Ginny was the first who had to feel the consequences of defying Malfoy.

"Ginny!"

She turned around and smiled to her new boyfriend.

"Hello, Max."

He kissed her gently and then sat down on her desk, just in front of her so that she couldn't oversee one inch of his perfect body.

"Do you want something?" Ginny asked, seeing he did not move.

"Can't I great my girlfriend without wanting anything?" he joked, but then he suddenly became serious again. "I've got something to tell you."

"What?"

"You know about this Malfoy, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Well, both Mr. and Mrs. Potter have failed in their mission of capturing him, and… I think it's because they still remember their common years in Hogwarts."

"And?"

"Well, I was wondering whether it's a good idea of letting Malfoy's case in their hands. I mean, perhaps they'll never catch him."

"Oh."

"So I was wondering whether _we_ couldn't go."

"We? You and I?"

He smiled charmingly, uncovering perfect white teeth.

"Why not?"

***

Max was certainly the most attractive – no, gorgeous – man Ginny Weasley had ever met. With his big gray eyes, his tanned skin, his brown hair and his muscled body, she wondered how it could be he had chosen her for his girlfriend while so many others would have done anything to go out with him.

"And you're sure we'll make it?" she asked, not because she was afraid, but because she wanted him to hold her tight and tell her he would protect her, whatever happened.

"I'm sure.", he said, most to her deception. Then, as if he would regret it, he smiled to her, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"We'll make it, my love."

"Of course. You're right."

Max looked around himself and pronounced the apparition spell. The tiny light ball first floated motionless in the air and then raced towards a big square, where nothing seemed to be able of harming them. Perfect.

"You know what spell to use, Ginny, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. First paralyzing, and, if this isn't efficient enough, a corporal punishment. That will teach him."

"That's it, Ginny. That's it."

Ginny and Max stepped into the square and looked around. It was desert. After all, it was lunchtime; there were only few Muggles that went out at this time. Not perceiving anything harmful, Ginny turned towards Max and said:

"Are you sure he's here?"

Max didn't answer. He looked at her for a while, and then Ginny felt a cold hand on her mouth which prevented her from screaming for help.

"Mmmph!"

"Not a word, Weasley, or it'll be the last you say. I must insist on the fact I've pointed by ward on your neck, and an avada kedavra is no pleasing spell, believe me."

Ginny gazed imploringly at Max, but he did not move an inch. She was thinking he might have been paralyzed by her aggressor when she felt she was vanishing. Then she caught a last glimpse of Max Green, and realized he was smiling as charmingly as ever.


	4. Chapter 4: Ron's Turn

Chapter 4: Ron's Turn

"Harry?"

"Hi, Ron."

Ron Weasley nearly let the cell phone slip down, and giggled nervously.

"Harry, Ginny's disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"Come on, Ron, she's no baby anymore. She'll be with her boyfriend."

"She always informs me when she leaves for long."

"Please, Ron, calm down. You're not her mother. Believe me, there's no problem with her. She'll be right back."

Rno did not seem convinced, but he nodded again, though his friend could not see it, and then thanked Harry.

"Alright, alright. I'll wait an hour."

"Wait until this evening, Ron."

"But… O.K. Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome. See you this afternoon."

"Bye."

Ron hung up, but he wasn't at ease at all. His sister always told him when she went away, but this time… it was so weird. He was actually her brother, and had always complained about their mother's hyper-protectiveness, and now he was himself worried about Ginny.

***

For the first time, Voldemort's didn't have to make up a story to drive Ron to Whitechapel. He went there himself, wanting to meet Harry, Hermione and Morgan in a pub over there. Ginny would have been invited too if she had answered to Ron's phone calls. But her cell phone was switched off, and that was beginning worrying the friends.

His father had influenced him with his love for the Muggles – now Ron almost preferred walking by foot to the places instead of using floo powder. This is why this sunny day of autumn; he had taken the subway to go to Whitechapel. He had been pushed, knocked over and jolted, but he was glad he had done it. It felt good to act without magic for half an hour.

He smiled charmingly to a beautiful Muggle who passed his way, who, instead of being delighted a man as good-looking as Ron had noticed her, pulled a face and laughed. But even that did not drive away Ron's excellent mood.

- Hey, Weasel!

A voice he recognized made him shoot around angrily. He stared at the man who had interpellated him, making himself believe he was not who he thought he was.

- Malfoy? It was like he had spit the name.

- As charming as always, weasel.

- What do you want? And… oh god.

Suddenly coming back to reality, Ron drew his wand and tried to throw a spell, but he stopped himself at the last moment, realizing about two dozens of Muggles could see him. Besides, a fight between the two wizards could harm them. 

But obviously, Draco did not have this scruple. Without hesitating, he drew his wand as well and threw a spell at Ron who made him feel paralyzed. He could not move an inch unless Draco seized him and vanished with him.

***

Hermione sipped her cappuccino and yawned, terribly bored. There was no one else except her in the office, because she was late and all the others had gone to work, so no one could admire her new clothes. She was dressed in the most elegant black ensemble, with a red shirt whose décolleté offered a plunging view on her tanned skin. She had straightened her hair and put on make-up, and now she sat there at work, her legs crossed because she was afraid the skirt was too short, nipping her coffee.

"Good morning, Mrs. Potter."

She turned around, almost spilling the hot coffee over her pretty clothes.

"Oh, hello, Mildred. I didn't hear you come."

Mildred smiled stupidly, and sat down in front of her desk.

"What's up today, Mrs. Potter?"

"I don't know. I've just arrived."

"Really? It's eight o' clock." Mildred said glancing at her watch innocently, as if she would not be reproaching anything but just recording her boss' delay.

Hermione nodded, trying not to blush.

"I had something urgent to do." She replied, thinking how silly this sounded. Then again, Mildred was brainless too, so she probably wouldn't notice it.

Hermione switched her crystal ball on and watched it absentmindedly.

"Mildred?" she asked, feeling anything would be alright to distract her from her boring work.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter?"

"You've never told me anything about your life, though you know everything about mine."

If Hermione was expecting that Mildred would tell her now, she didn't.

"That's true, Mrs. Potter."

"Have you got any children?"

"No, Mrs. Potter."

"Are you married?"

"No, Mrs. Potter."

Hermione felt she was losing patience, wanting to strangle her assistant.

"So what if you told me?"

"I'm single, and my parents live in Manchester. There's not much more to say."

"Oh."

"As you say, Mrs. Potter."

Even the talkative Mildred had nothing to tell her today. Hermione began thinking, in order to amuse herself, that her new clothes were cursed.

"What do you think of my ensemble, Mildred?" she asked, blaming herself for having such a superficial conversation with her.

"It's beautiful, Mrs. Potter. And by the way, I saw this adorable light pink skirt yesterday evening, and…"

_That's it_, Hermione thought. _No one's gonna stop her now. She's switched on. Why, everything's better than just watching the crystal ball._

"Hermione!"

The young woman shot around and glanced surprised at the crystal ball, where her husband's face had suddenly appeared.

"What is it, Harry?"

"You… you've gotta see this… I mean, come to Whitechapel. It's awful."

"But what has happened?" she asked nervously.

"Malfoy… he's been there."

_Malfoy__.__ Draco._ Hermione swallowed, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, Harry did not notice her confusion and disappeared as quickly as he had come.

_Why should I care?_ Hermione thought. _The only problem in this affair are the wizards and muggles which Draco… no, Malfoy, can hurt. I don't give a damn on this jerk. Bastard. Handsome bastard. _

***

Ginny shook her red mane while she bit her lips nervously. What the hell did all this mean? Where was she? Why was she there?

"Hello? Is there someone out here?" she asked for the hundredth time this day. "Hello! Does anybody hear me?"

But only the silence answered her question.

"Ever heard about women's rights?" she screamed into the darkness.

She didn't know how long she had been in that chamber, only that it was dark, cold and small. And there was no exit but an iron door which was closed from outside, Ginny had tied opening it, without success.

She let herself fall on the hard floor again, on the verge of the tears.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" she yelled. "You'll pay for that."

"Will I?"

She shot around terrified. The voice had come from behind her, yet she had felt nobody approaching. In the darkness, she could perceive only the shine of Malfoy's steel gray eyes.

"Set me free!" she screamed, raising her wand in order to hurt him, but he disarmed her as easily as if she would be a beginner who's just arrived at Hogwarts.

"Calm down, Weasel, or you'll hurt your brother." Malfoy's calm and cold voice came from the shadows.

"What?"

Ginny heard a _thumb_ as if something heavy would have been thrown on the ground.

"Have a good day, Weasels." Malfoy said, and then he was gone.

Ginny knelt down beside her brother, and shook him.

"Ron? Ron! Are you O.K.?"

First, nothing happened, and then she heard a groan.

"Ginny?"

Ginny couldn't see him, but she knew he was staring around him with disbelief.

"What's happened? Where are we?"

She sighed heavily.

"If only I knew it."

***

Hermione looked silently at her assistant.

"Are you sure of it?"

"Yes, Mrs. Potter. Mr. and Miss Weasley have not appeared today."

"Oh Merlin."

"You say it, Mrs. Potter."

"I must call my husband."

"Certainly, Mrs. Potter."

Hermione rushed towards her cell phone and nervously composed Harry's number. She waited impatiently until he hung up:

"Harry?"

"Hi, darling."

Hermione had no time to feel uncomfortable about this nickname, she only replied:

"Ron and Ginny have disappeared."

Harry first couldn't answer.

"What?"

"They've disappeared."

"Oh my god."

"What now?"

Harry was obviously trying to calm himself down, because he needed a few seconds to answer.

"Let's go back home, and wait calmly."

"But Harry, we've got to do something!"

"There's nothing we can do. We should wait."

Hermione was about to burst into anger, when she remembered herself that her husband was like he was, different from her. He would never react as furiously, as passionately as she.

"Alright, Harry. Let's wait."

_N.B.: ok, I know this chapter sucks, but I wasn't inspired. If you'd review, it'd be better!_


	5. Chapter 5: Night

Chapter 5: Night

Disclaimer: I don't own any character except Morgan and Mildred. I do own the plot, though.

I dedicate this chapter to 

~ Dreaming One – I know I should write longer chapters, and I'll do what I can, though this chapter isn't going to be long either. I hope I'll make it better next time. As for the descriptions, you're totally right, but I simply don't like describing things. I'll make efforts, though.

~ Steel Azalea – it's nice to know there are people who like my story

~ Wildcat AZ – thanks for the compliment

~ Luna Elentari – I know Ron's too sissy, and I'll try to improve that. As for your story, I checked it and read the first chapter and I liked it!

~ tortuga23 – here is the draco-part which you awaited, I hope it'll please you.

~ Demetre Ironhilt – thanks a lot, I didn't know there were people who were as nice as you. Besides, I like the title of my story too *smiles* it comes from a poem I wrote.

~ Amber – I'm glad you like my fanfic.

Now, most of the reviews were positive and I'm _so_ happy! I simply adore it when people review my fanfic, even if it's "constructive criticism". So read and review!!! J

Oh, and I'm sorry if there are mistakes, it's midnight and I _begin_ feeling tired so I don't have time to re-read it all.

Draco woke up with a start in the middle of the night. He was in his room, in Malfoy Manor, an almost completely wooden, old-fashioned and immense house which belonged to him since his father's death. It was Lucius' fault if he had become a Death Eater, though he didn't have anything against it. He liked it. It made him feel so strong, so powerful. It was as if the whole world was at his feet. And it felt _so_ good.

_What is it I don't have in my life?_ he thought. _I'm gorgeous, rich, powerful, famous… what more can I ask?_

It would sound like cliché to say "love", so he didn't think it. He could sleep with whichever girl he wanted, so, why should he care about an abstract thing like _love_? He had had so many one-night stands he had given up counting them. Yet the good feeling had disappeared after the three first dozens. It didn't amuse him any more.

Draco turned around in his bed and stared at the ceiling, suddenly thinking of the Dream Team. Potter, Granger and Weasley were supposed to be happy. Really happy. Not perversely like him. Potter and Granger were married together, and Weasley' hair had faded into a quite acceptable auburn. Which meant he wasn't that unpopular with women. Now he thought about it, he remembered Granger's smile, her chocolate-colored hair and the way she had actually _defended_ him. He wondered why, but she really had. And the thought he owed something to someone, especially if it was a member of the Dream Team, made him sick.

He got up, realizing he wouldn't fall asleep again, put off his pajama and got dressed with a black shirt with short sleeves and black jeans. After having switched on the light, Draco threw a glance at his mirror, and smiled.

_I'm so sexy_, he thought, lost in the contemplation of his gorgeous self. His almost shoulder-long platinum blonde hair was no longer combed back with gel as during his Hogwarts-time, but hung lose and some strands fell on his face when he bent to put on his black sneakers.

_A bit too black, isn't it?_ He asked himself. Then he thought how handsome he looked in black, and smirked again.

He walked out of his room, and admired the cold beauty of his home. The walls were very high, made of ebony, the ceilings were decorated with old but still fresh paintings, but what Draco liked the most was the ever-present coldness and darkness. He loved darkness like one adored one's country or a lover, with a passionate and almost blind love. He loved the night with all his senses, with his eyes that saw her, his smell that scented its perfume, his ears that listened to the silence, his skin that the shadows caressed. The larks sung in the sun, in the blue air, in the hot air, in the light air of the clear mornings. The owl fled in the night, black stain that flew in the black space, and, jovial, made tipsy by the black immensity, it heaved its sinister and vibrating cry, which echoed in the silence.

The day tired and bored him. He thought it was brutal and noisy. Every morning, he would get up unwillingly, get dressed wearily, and go out sighing. And sometimes, not even the pleasure of being evil cheered him up.

But when the sun would fall, a confuse joy would steal over him. He would really wake up, live up. As the shadow would grow, he would feel different, stronger, more agile, happier. He would watch as the darkness thickened, the immense sweet shadow which fell from the sky; it'd drown the city, like an unseizable and impenetrable wave; she'd hide, erase, destroy the forms, the colors, the noises. Silence and darkness would reign. Then he would want to cry out of pleasure like the owls, run on the roofs like the cats, and an ardent desire of loving would overcome him.

This night, Draco thought it was more splendid than ever, more silent, and shadier. As he closed the door of Malfoy Manor behind him, he felt like he was the king of the night. But he had no time to become megalomaniac, because he suddenly stopped. He had heard something. His silver eyes pierced the darkness, but he couldn't distinguish anything. He turned around, and then he felt a cold touch on his neck, like metal. He smiled coolly.

"Let me guess", he hissed. "Potter?"

He felt his aggressor's warm breath on his face, and realized it was a woman.

"Granger?"

"Not any more."

"Oh, true, you're married to the Boy Who Lived to Be Famous.", he mocked.

"At least I don't kill and kidnap people."

Draco Malfoy didn't know whether to feel complimented or offended by this remark, so he concentrated on perceiving where Hermione stood. He didn't see her shape, but he felt her body very close to him, so he could sense her warmth, her emotion. And oddly, it didn't disgust him as much as he had thought it would.

"You've come to ask me what I had done to your friends."

"Smart, Malfoy."

"I know."

"Tell me, now."

"Otherwise?"

"Otherwise I'll have no scruples and will plunge this knife into your neck."

He laughed sarcastically.

"Would you?"

"Oh, I would", she replied, trying to firm her voice.

Strangely, his presence made her feel excited. She noticed her heart begun beating quicker, her breathing sacked slowly.

"Afraid, Granger?" he asked, noticing her trouble.

His presence always had that effect on women, and Granger still controlled herself very well in comparison to most of the other women. He raised his left hand and passed his finger over the smooth surface of the knife. Then he gradually advanced towards her, unless his long slender fingers touched her cheek. Hermione felt coldness on her lips and knew his fingers were stroking them. She couldn't move away. She couldn't.

"Of the numerous mistakes you've made, Granger", she heard his cold whisper "marrying Potter was the worst."

_I know_, she thought unwillingly, blaming herself immediately.

"What do you know, Malfoy?" she started to say, but she was interrupted by him kissing her.

Theirs was a short but passionate kiss, and, as their tongues under twined, Draco had the feeling he had missed for so long. As for Hermione, she couldn't help enjoying the touch of his cold, smooth but firm lips on hers, and passed her fingers through his silky hair. Then suddenly, she became aware of what she was doing, and broke the kiss.

"Bad conscience, Granger?" Draco mocked, not even breathing more quickly.

"Potter", she corrected.

She heard his sarcastic laughter, and then nothing more. For one terrible moment, she feared he might be gone, so she whispered:

"Are you still here?"

He laughed once more:

"Would you mind if I weren't?"

"No. Of course I wouldn't."

"What did you want, Granger?"

"Potter", she repeated weakly, but she knew he wouldn't pay attention on that. "I want you to tell me where my friends are."

"Do you really expect me to do this?"

"I'm asking you to."

He smiled in the darkness, and it seemed to her she could almost see his grin.

"Forget it, Granger. Go back home to your dear husband."

She bit her lips. How could it be he had kissed her so passionately only a few seconds before and now he was almost ignoring her?

"Malfoy, please. Are they alright?"

"They're alive."

"I know you want to catch us all so Harry stays alone."

"Smart, Granger", he said like she had just some minutes ago.

"I know."

"We're not that different, you know? I wonder why you had to marry a looser like Potter."

"He's no looser." She said, but it felt wrong even to her ears.

"What else?" he asked.

She hesitated for a long time, and then murmured:

"Why did you kiss me?"

He needed a couple of moments to answer:

"Go back home, Granger."

And then she noticed he had disappeared.

***

When Hermione appeared in her bed by Harry's side again, her heart was still beating quickly, and she was still confused by the kiss. Not because she thought it terrible to be kissed by the enemy. Because she had liked it.

She blamed herself for being so stupid. Draco had just wanted to have some fun. He had just played with her, like with all the other women he had ever gone out with. He had the reputation of being an unfaithful lover, and Hermione didn't doubt of it.

"How was it?" Harry whispered, turning around to face her.

She had first not wanted to tell him where she was going, but he had caught her grabbing a kitchen knife and so she had been forced to involve him in the secret. What disgusted her about it was that he had made no attempt of going with her to help her. He had simply tried to persuade her of not doing it, and as she had insisted, he had nodded and told her he would wait for her and call for help if she didn't come after half an hour.

Hermione hesitated. She had always told him the truth, but this…?

"Bad. He wasn't there."

"Oh. Too bad. We'll see tomorrow."

Hermione arched her eyebrows in surprise.

_We'll see tomorrow?_ She repeated mentally. She couldn't believe he simply gave in so easily. It was coward.

"Good night, darling" Harry whispered and kissed her gently.

She felt the sudden urge of breaking the kiss, but didn't do it. Harry was her husband. Draco was her enemy. Guess whom she was supposed to kiss.

"Good night… Harry" she wasn't able of saying "darling" but he didn't notice it.

He turned around and switched his lamp off.

Hermione stood long awake in the darkness. Draco loved the night. He was a creature of darkness. Evil. But why the hell did he kiss so well?

***

Morgan Wells appeared in her room immediately. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. It was unbelievable. Hermione Potter, wife of the famous Harry Potter, had kissed Draco Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand. A Death Eater and an Auror. How pathetical. How infuriating.

She saw in the night almost half as good as in the day, Merlin knew why. It was a gift her father had had too, and so she had inherited it.

She had known Malfoy went out almost every night, because he loved the night. Like her. He had told her. He would regret it. She hated him so much…

She had first loved him madly, and then he had betrayed her with that stupid blonde girl, Millie, or Mildy or something like that. When she had noticed it, it was as if her world had broken into hundreds of pieces and then fallen over her like a rain of black stars. She had loved him so much, and he had betrayed her. She had sworn to herself to take revenge. One day, she had promised, she'd kill Draco Malfoy.

And so, when she had come back to England, every week, on Friday night, she had gone out to watch for the best moment to attack him. She had first looked for him wherever he was last sighted, with little success. Then she had thought he might still live in Malfoy Manor, and she had been lucky. She had watched him in the shadows, waiting for the right time. But always, he had his wand, and she knew she couldn't deal with it, never mind how skilled she was. He was more. And this Friday night, as she had waited in the darkness, she had seen her. Hermione. With a knife. Morgan had considered jumping on her and saving her, because she knew she wasn't able of fighting Draco, but Potter had surprised her. She had attacked Malfoy cleverly, and then Morgan had hesitated again. Should she let Hermione kill the man she wanted to slay herself? It would destroy her act of revenge. But then, the positions had changed. Hermione suddenly hadn't seemed so sure of herself. And then they had kissed.

Morgan Wells' heart had burned. Hate? Anger? Or perhaps jealousy? She wouldn't know.

What she knew was that she had to hurry up with her plan or something would get wrong. Terribly wrong. 


	6. Chapter 6: Morgan's Revenge

Chapter 6: Morgan's Revenge 

_Disclaimer: don't own anything but the plot, so don't sue me, I really have enough problems with my "depression". Does nobody read my story or do you guys simply don't like reviewing??? In any of these cases, it makes me soooooooo gloomy. Come on, I'd give my eye for more reviews. Then again, perhaps I wouldn't. Since you don't review, I'm gonna be sadistic and I'll let the suspense in the last line and if you don't review, I won't post anything more so you won't know what happens. **laughs evilly**. So please, make me a happy _J _person and READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Oh, and by the way, thanks to all those who reviewed anyway: tortuga23, PiNG er, and Dreaming one. I don't have enough time to write something personal to all of you, but I'll come up with this in the next chapter…. if you review!!_

_I got the inspiration for this basing on my real life. I don't mean that my love life is as **fascinating** and romantic as Hermione's but this really cute guy asked me to go out with him, and…. I didn't accept! Because I'm in love with the bad boy…. Blonde? Yes I am, this is why I behave so stupidly... **laughs again, sadly this time**_

_Here you go, so ENJOY (and REVIEW please)_

Hermione turned over the soup she was cooking, a habit of the times when she still lived with her parents that always calmed her. What had she done, last night? How couldn't she possibly feel guilty for having _enjoyed_ it? And why the hell had Malfoy kissed her? He was a jerk, a bastard, a dicksucker, and… so why…? He liked making fun of the others, so perhaps he had just wanted to amuse himself flirting with her. Yet…

"F***!" she cursed, having burned her finger. She put it in her mouth and ran to the faucet to put her sore finger under icy water.

_God punishes you_, she thought, remembering her mother's words. Her mother, Eleanor, was very religious, and had the doubt wizards and witches might be a creation of Satan. This is why she had never agreed with her only daughter going to Hogwarts, but her husband deciding everything at home, she hadn't been able to prevent it.

Hermione sighed, thinking of the old times before her marriage. She was only twenty-three, and yet it seemed very long ago since she had last seen her parents. She had married Harry about one year ago, but it seemed much longer. Until then, she had lived with Ginny in a flat in downtown London. They had had a lot of fun. Before, she had lived mostly in Hogwarts, and during the holidays, at home, where she had to listen to her mother's hysterical and panic prayers, and her father's screams. Her parents had never suited each other. Hermione couldn't understand why they had married. All their numerous quarrels had ended with Eleanor weeping and shrieking her husband, Jake, was an incarnation of the devil, and her father spending all the contents of their purses in beers. Compared to this, even Hermione's actual life seemed heaven. She should be glad and thankful for having wed a fine guy such as Harry, so why did she regret it? Perhaps because she doubted she loved him? Her mother had taught her love was not indispensable for a good marriage. You could come up very well with your husband without adoring him. Then again, Jake and Eleanor hadn't loved each other and hadn't come up together well either.

"Hi honey, I'm home!"

She heard the door banging behind Harry, and smiled weakly to him as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry."

"You know", he said raising his wand; "You could do this very much easier with magic."

"I know, but I want it like this. It doesn't taste the same."

He beamed at her and bent forwards to kiss her gently.

"Nothing tastes as good as when you do it, darling."

Hermione moved away.

"I… I must… go to the toilets, I'll be right back." She muttered.

_How will you come up with this, Mimi?_ She asked to herself. _How will you be able to look into his eyes?_

***

- What has Malfoy done? Voldemort's impotent and powerful voice reverberated, making Mildred Prebble tremble from head to toes. She fell to her knees sobbing.

- Please forgive me, milord, I didn't want to upset you, she muttered between two blubbers.

- Upset me? Upset me?! The evil wizard's voice was louder than ever as he cried on his servant. If you didn't want to upset me, you should have killed this betrayer!

- Kill him? But, milord…

- No buts, Prebble! What does this mean, he kissed the enemy's wife?! How dare he? Oh, he'll pay for this! Prebble?

- Yes, milord? The poor woman said not daring to look up.

- How did you know about their meeting?

- Uhm…

- Say it, Prebble, or you'll have to suffer my punishment!

- Morgan Wells told me! Mildred said quickly.

Though Mildred was terribly afraid of Morgan Wells, knowing what she did to her enemies when she was angry, it still frightened her more to think about how Voldemort could possibly punish her. Morgan was hard, she easily got furious and was sometimes cruel, but she was like a choir child compared to the Lord of Darkness.

- Morgan Wells? Malfoy's wife?

Mildred felt dazed. _Malfoy's wife?_ He'd never talked about this. She knew they'd had a love story, but not that they had _married_… 

- I didn't… yes, this it is.

It seemed to her a smile was painted on Voldemort's almost non-existent lips.

- Interesting woman, this one, he hissed. Wants to kill her own husband… Bring her to me.

- Bring Wells to you? But, milord, she's like poison, you know, she…

- What do you know, Prebble, of what Wells is like?

- I… I used to know her, milord.

- Then tell me what you know about her.

- We were together at school in Beauxbâtons. She was really terrible, had no friends, because she was so mean and had all the boys at her feet while she made fun of them. She was so bright, and yet so…

- That's enough, Prebble. Why is she good?

Mildred hunched her shoulders and then winced, believing it was impolite to hunch shoulders in presence of the great master.

- Because of Malfoy, I think, she whispered. She hates him. And she wanted to do whatever could harm him.

Voldemort grinned in the darkness again.

- I like this. Manage to make me talk with her. She'll be the best to kill Malfoy.

Mildred nodded weakly. She didn't have the courage of replying that Malfoy was their best Death Eater, she knew Voldemort had only waited for an excuse to erase Draco. He didn't like competence, and he knew the young Malfoy was bright and brave and skilled enough to rebel against him.

***

Morgan was combing her long dark curls when she saw Mildred Prebble's miserable figure's reflection on her mirror.

- What do you want, Prebble? She said without turning around.

- I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Wells, Mildred replied seeing Morgan's wand on her table, but the Lord wants to talk to you.

- Talk to me? She had a sarcastic laughter. I don't talk with the enemy.

- But, Mrs. Wells, it's you-know-who!

- And?

- You should fear his anger!

- I don't fear anything.

Mildred shook her head in disbelief.

- He'll kill you if you don't obey.

- Why does he want to talk to me?

- Because of Mr. Malfoy.

Morgan Wells' black eyes flashed with suddenly unleashed fury. The memory of her husband always made her fume.

- What – is – with – him? She said very slowly, trying to stay calm.

- It's because you tried to kill him.

- I'll do it, if I can. I don't need his permission.

- That's not the point. He wants you to kill him, and he wants to make a compromise.

Morgan first frowned, surprised, and then smiled.

- Alright. I'll talk with Voldemort.

***

Draco loved the night. It made him feel alive. Strangely excited, full of energy. But this night, it remembered him the mistake he had made the last time he had gone out in the darkness. When he had kissed Granger… Potter. Besides the fact she was married, there was also Morgan. His wife. Whom he had never divorced, but not seen again either since their wedding. He had loved her, he had really had. But… she was only one of the numerous women he had liked, though a better, brighter, more beautiful one. He'd made a mistake marrying her, but it wasn't entirely his fault. His parents, and hers, had insisted.

"What a wonderful people they'd make, so brave, so smart, so gorgeous, both of them", they had said. And they had. The entire underworld had talked about Mr. And Mrs. Draco Malfoy. The bewitching Morgan, the fascinating Draco. The perfect couple. And yet they had managed to hate each other so terribly it had almost killed them both. After having tried to kill him, Morgan had fled. He hadn't seen his wife again since then, but he knew she wouldn't give up. She never did. This was partly why he had loved her. And why he hated her now.

Hermione Potter was quite different. She was purely good, nice, friendly. But _good_. And yet smart, and interesting. Draco couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed their kiss, because he had, but it had been a mistake. A nice one, but a mistake anyway. And he knew someone had been watching them. Prebble? Potter? Or perhaps Morgan? At any rate, it might be fatal for him, Potter being the last dangerous of the three and Morgan the most. Prebble would certainly report the incident to Voldemort, who'd have a hysterical crisis and torture him for a while just for fun. Potter would cry because his wife had betrayed him and would then only think of how taking revenge. But Morgan? She'd loath him just more, and her urge to slay him would grow stronger. And Draco knew if he didn't pay attention, she'd succeed.

As if answering to his thoughts, he felt the touch of the point of a wand on his back.

"It'll be the last time you've betrayed me, Draco"

Morgan's musical voice was ice-cold.

"Do you want to kill me, Morgan?" he asked mockingly, though he was quite afraid.

"More than anything in the world."

Disclaimer: **hehehehe** this will teach you!!!! Read and review and I'll post more!


	7. Chapter 7: The Cathedral

Chapter 7: The Cathedral

_Disclaimer: Though I'm terribly depressing, **sniff**, I can't help wanting to write, so HERE I AM AGAIN **hehehe**!!! Just one question: why the hell doesn't ANYONE review my story? Is it so bad? So boring? So stupid? Honestly, I'd even prefer "constructive criticism" (which also means things like "your story sucks") to… nothing. Emptiness. It's depressing. Come on guys, READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!_

_PS: enjoy_

"So? What are you waiting for?"

Seeing Morgan _Malfoy -_ once named Morgan Elizabeth Wells before the marriage they hadn't yet broken - hesitate was about the funniest thing Draco had ever seen, though he couldn't actually distingue her face.

"What are you waiting for?" he repeated.

"Shut up, Draco."

"Are you afraid?"

"Of you?" she mocked.

"Of my death."

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"That's why I loved you once."

"Is it why you betrayed me? Because you wanted someone sweet and gentle? Like Potter's wife?"

Draco froze and tried to step back, but she wouldn't retract her deadly wand, yet she didn't hit him.

"You saw me."

"I saw you both. Together. Kissing."

"Did it break your heart?" he scorned.

"At the risk of sounding cliché, Draco, you broke my heart long ago. There's nothing to be broken now, only ice."

"Hate."

"Exactly."

"So you want to kill me because I betrayed you?"

"Because you're still."

"We're still married, if that's what you mean."

"Yes."

"So what about a nice divorce and we just forget everything?"

"Forget it?" she screamed. "Forget it? Forget all the nights I passed crying; forget the pain, the fear, the hate? Oh, no. The only way I'll ever forget this is killing you."

"Bloodthirsty person."

"Just like you, no?"

"We were quite a match, weren't we? Everybody talked about us. The famous couple, the fantastically skilled dark wizards."

"It's past now. I'm on the other side."

"Just to have an excuse to slay me. You're evil, Morgan, just like me. You'll always be."

"That's my problem .Yours is to die now."

She began murmuring an avada kedavra.

"Wait" Draco whispered into her ear. "Wait for what I have to tell you."

"I don't want to listen to you" she replied, but she stopped the spell.

"You know that if you kill me, you lose the only one who could have killed Potter."

She laughed softly, completely sure of herself.

"You, kill Potter? Voldemort wants to execute _you_ because he thinks you're changing the side. Because of Potter's wife."

"You're stupid, both. And I thought you were so brilliant…"

"I _am_ brilliant." She snapped back proudly.

"And striking, and skilled. And my wife. So why kill me? We could do great things together."

Morgan spat again, and then turned her black eyes to him. Draco could see them shining in the moonlight, with the same fierceness as the day when they had married. He admired the whiteness of her skin, the waves of her dark hair, the sensual lines of her blood-red lips. She was so beautiful, it took his breath away. And yet she couldn't inspire him any feeling of love or sympathy. When they were still together, Draco remembered she'd stirred more lust than love. He'd adored her for the thrilling feeling of her cold skin against his', for the touch of her lips and the caresses of her silky hair. The ruthless shine in her eyes, the naughty smile on her lips, the coldness of her hand on his neck, everything in her betrayed her lack of scruples and of humanity. Not that Draco had any of these, though. But he could only hate her. As much as he had loved her once upon a time.

"Don't behave like a jerk, Draco."

"Alright. So now I'll tell you something seriously."

"Go on, it'll be the last thing you'll say."

"Perhaps you and Voldemort should have thought a little further away, because then, you'd have noticed how ridiculous it is to suppose I have something with Potter's wife."

"And the kiss?" she asked acidly.

"It was just a part of my plan. Don't you see? Just part of _our _plan. Potter is the weakest when he's alone. We've erased the Weasels, and we should make Granger – sorry, Potter's wife - disappear too."

"So what?"

"But she isn't that stupid. Not enough to let us kidnap her, at least."

Morgan's brow arched perfectly, showing what she thought of his excuse.

"Thus, the best is to make her vulnerable to the dark side. If I arrange it for her to fall for me, then she won't be able to hurt me. She doesn't love her husband."

"You think I'm so stupid I believe your tale?"

"I think you're _smart_ enough to believe it. Oh, go to hell, Morgan. Why on earth should Potter's wife interest me?"

Morgan seemed to think about it.

"I wonder how she could, honestly" she muttered. "But it still sounds fake to me. You're just making fun of me."

"Would I dare, knowing you can kill me from one moment to the other? Come on, Morgan, isn't the story just too stupid to be false?"

"That's a brainless argument."

"Sorry, I need time to think of a good answer."

Morgan laughed again, knowing perfectly this was wrong. He was the smartest man she'd ever met. And the most handsome, and the most skilled. And the one she hated the most, for having betrayed her without hesitating.

"So?" Draco asked her.

"Let's talk to Voldemort."

If Draco really had something with Potter's wife, then killing _her_ would be the worst thing Morgan could do to the blonde angel of darkness.

***

"Harry?"

"What, honey?"

"I'm afraid."

"You shouldn't."

Hermione looked away. He should have pressed her body against his', he should have protected her, he should have sworn nothing would ever happen to her next to him. But he hadn't. He'd just said "you shouldn't". As if he wasn't frightened to death too. But he was the guy who lived, the guy who had survived numerous attacks from Voldemort. He wasn't supposed to be afraid. He always won. Without doing anything impressing.

Hermione pulled her cloak around herself tighter to keep out the chill. The muggle road was deserted at this hour except for the occasional noise of a distant automobile. 

_It's never been so cold the day before my birthday,_ Hermione thought. _Well, I won't have a party anyway, so…_

It was true that it was unnaturally cool for late November weather; orange lights from building windows mocked the cold gray street below. Hermione sighed jealously at the thought of the innocent, unaware Muggles warm in their beds, innocent victims that she was working so hard to protect. Voldemort sent more and more Death Eaters to kidnap, kill and violate Muggles. Women were violated by male Death Eaters, children were thrown out of windows, men were tortured. To have a bit of fun. Hermione couldn't understand how people, _humans_, could be so cruel. Humans who could kiss so well.

Because Draco Malfoy was one of them, too. One of those who enjoyed violating virgins for the wonderful feeling of might it gave to be a girl's first man. One of those who broke children's skulls on their toys to laugh at the irony of the situation. One of those who whipped men to blood while they watched TV, just to have an excuse to put the volume louder.

One of the evils.

He was one of them. So she was supposed to hate him, but was she able of doing it?

The horrible new had surprised them all in the middle of the evening. All, it meant those who were left: Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Dean… 

Fred and George Weasley, Padma Patil and many others had just disappeared, just like Ron and Ginny. Without any trace. Probably kidnapped, certainly tortured. Maybe dead.

The left Aurors had gathered together at the Potters' and Parvati had passed the evening crying for her sister while Harry repeated it was all his fault just to hear the others say "but no, Harry, you're our hero and you'll save us all." Then he'd smile pleased, only to start again a little later. 

And then, the new. They had heard it on Magic TV, on the NFA (News for Fighting Aurors), the equivalent for CNN in the magic world. Hogwarts had been closed. Dumbledore had disappeared.

Hermione had cried of anger, but it hadn't helped. The situation was desperate. What would they do without Dumbledore? How would they prevent the Dark Lord from winning?

But then they had decided they had to do something except weeping for the losses. They had to fight.

With Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan, Harry and Hermione were exploring a cathedral in Whitechapel, where Death Eaters had appeared just some moments ago. Death Eaters seemed to have something against religion, because they had almost completely destroyed the beautiful building. The statues were thrown on the ground, the burning candles had put fire to the flowers, the stained glass windows were broken. Nothing left of the old glory of the cathedral.

_Sons of bitches_ Hermione thought, putting a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear and looking around. _How dare you…?_

"It's terrible" Lavender murmured while she hid her head in Seamus cape. "It's terrible."

"Look! There!" Seamus had jumped up and was throwing fireballs from his wand to a Death Eater in a corner of the cathedral. The Death Eater fell dead on the ground, and more came.

"Paralyzing spells?" Harry proposed.

"No! We must kill them all, for what they did!" Hermione yelled.

"Paralyzing spells" Seamus agreed, taking her hand. "We shouldn't behave as cruelly as they do."

She looked away, slightly ashamed of her murdering impulse. Then she started paralyzing some Death Eaters. There weren't many, obviously most of them had already disappeared. After Harry, Hermione, Seamus and Lavender had defeated them all, they went to the place where they laid, dark against the white marble.

And then something fell on them.

Seamus and Lavender fell to the ground, lifeless, but Harry created a magic bubble around him and his wife, and the falling arch bounced against it and smacked against the wall, breaking in thousands of pieces. About two dozens of Death Eaters jumped from the sky, like falling Angels of darkness, and hoisted Seamus and Lavender up, and then ran away. Hermione wanted to follow them, to save her friends, but always more Death Eaters came and tried to break the bubble, so she had much work preserving it.

"It was a trap" said Harry while he propelled a Death Eater against a wall.

"Really?" his wife mocked.

"Let's vanish"

And then they were gone. First Harry and then Hermione disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

***

And they were just another piece in this chess game, just like he was. 

Draco looked at the place where the shining bubble with the Potters in it had stood, and smiled coldly.

He was perched on the top of one of the rare arches which hadn't been destroyed previously, like a black-caped gargoyle, stonily still as he was trained to be. It was a simple, but deadly trap. The Potters and their friends had fallen just like he had expected they would. He was a genius. 

"Smart plan, Draco."

"Thank you, Morgan."

The dark-caped young woman was at his side in one moment and watched the scene below them, the strands of her dark hair flying in the slight wind like snakes.

"With more force, we could have got the Potters too." She complained.

"That wasn't part of the plan."

"Does everything have to follow a _plan_? Why can't you just be emotive?"

Draco placed his orbs of molten silver on Morgan, and watcher her perfect, ethereal beauty. Then he looked away.

"Because emotions are the way to death. If you don't have human feelings, you don't live human death."

"That's stupidity."

"Think what you want."

She looked intensely at him with her burning black eyes, and then vanished. Draco sighed. It was good she was gone. Perhaps he wouldn't have resisted the urge of killing her one moment more. Then again, possibly she wouldn't have either.

The meeting with Voldemort had been perfect. He'd believed every single word, still faster than Morgan had. He'd smiled at the sight of Draco bowing in front of him and promising eternal faith. Draco had always been great at telling lies.

And what had pleased the Dark Lord still more had been his new, brilliant plan. A trap. To destroy even the last bounds of friendship the Potters had made. Break them all. While the Potters, Seamus and Lavender were going to the cathedral, Death Eaters had ravaged the others' houses. Kidnapped Parvati Patil and the Weasley twins.

Now Harry and Hermione were alone.

Draco smiled in the darkness, and jumped down the arch. The wind whipped his face, he extended his cape so that it looked like a bat's wings. It felt great.

The ground came always nearer, and Draco enjoyed the feeling of flirting with death. The ground was not more than two or three feet away. And then he vanished.

***

"Am I supposed to believe the stuff with Potter's wife?"

"You again, Morgan?"

"Who else?"

"So what? I thought we had come to an agreement."

"Come on, Draco. We're both too bright to believe lies. So what was that with Potter?"

"What I told you."

"I don't like falsehood."

"Talk to someone else, then."

"Tell me the truth."

"You're jealous."

"I told you there was nothing in my heart which could still make me jealous. Only ice."

"You sound ridiculous. Why do you ask, then?"

"Because I officially belong to the goods, I'm an Auror, if you have forgotten it."

"So what? Will you just join them and tell Granger I've used her?" he laughed.

"She'd deny having kissed you."

"Smart girl."

"Don't make me laugh."

"She _is_ smart, though she's good."

Morgan seemed to consider the fact, and then nodded slowly.

"Yes, she's quite judicious. Then again, she always takes the wrong decisions. Lots of brain, and no nous."

_Granger._

She'd always be Granger for Draco. Never Potter.

He was a Death Eater, she was an Auror. He was evil, she was good. He was unscrupulous, she was conscientious. He'd been a Slytherin, she'd been a Gryffindor. They had always been rivals, since their time in Hogwarts. Though Draco hadn't cared much of his marks, he'd always been an excellent student. But Hermione had always been a little bit better, just a little bit, enough to make her be the teachers' pet. And, to make things worse, she'd been a member of the Dream Team, the great heroes, those Dumbledore adored and who never, ever had got into trouble. Potter – the boy who lived to break the weaslette's heart and whose feet seemed to irresistibly attractive, since everybody wanted to lick them, Weasley – the poor redhead who'd vomited snails, and Granger – brain without looks. The Dream Team. The adventurers.

Thinking of it, Draco wanted to vomit. How could it possibly not make someone sick?

But now, they were more than just rivals. It was more than just a Quidditch game, more than just opposition because of the marks. It was war.

"So?" Morgan asked with a smile that showed her perfect white teeth.

"I hate her." 

It wasn't true.

Now, Granger had still her brains, but she had also good looks. She was quite pretty, now she combed her hair and put on something that didn't make her look like a monk. Prettier than most of the female Death Eaters Draco used to sleep with.

And her lips had such a soft, yet firm touch, such a sensual form, it was pleasant to kiss them.

And it was forbidden.

Which was partly why Draco had enjoyed their kiss so much. And why he suddenly felt the push for kissing her again.

NB: do you see this little button at the bottom of the screen? It's called "go". A little down the page… to the left… that's it, you've got it. Now click on it and review! This would make me a very happy author J


	8. Chapter 8: The Destruction

Chapter 8: The Destruction

_Disclaimer: The next chapters are rated PG-13 because of coming violence and sex scenes – hehehe. _

_Thanks to _**Dreaming One**_, though I do really hate criticism. Yeah, I know, it's bad, and one is supposed to be thankful for "constructive criticism". Anyway. I'll try to improve it. And I thank you for wanting to help me, I'm sure you're right. _

_Kisses and of course many thanks to _**Amber**_, who's just the nicest person in the world.__ I LOVE compliments **hehehe**, but perhaps _**May**_ is right. Surely, because her stories are great._

_Thanks anyway and enjoy the next chapter, which will be mostly Harry's POV and will contain more *descriptions* and less *dialogues* than the previous ones, to make _**May **_happy. _

Harry closed his eyes, rubbed them and then opened them. It was unbelievable.

_Oh, Merlin_, he thought, watching the disaster in front of her.

Obviously, Death Eaters had irrupted into their flat, because everything was upside down; the bookshelves containing Hermione's precious and beloved books had been violently thrown down, their furniture had been burned and all that was left of both the books and the pieces of furniture they had so lovingly chosen of were ashes. The wallpaper had been torn; one could see the white bricks behind the originally beige wallpaper, at some places, even the ceiling had fallen down and dust covered everything.

"Oh, Merlin." Hermione said, as if repeating his thoughts.

Harry literally jumped towards their room, frantically searching for his magical supplying. His foe-glass, his crystal ball, his broom, everything had been violently destroyed. He felt both rage and desperation grow in him, and clenched his fists to stifle back burning tears. He sat down on the ground, feeling his legs wouldn't hold him long.

With one moment, Hermione was at his side, and she too stared at the chaos. Even their bed, in which she had passed so boring nights she couldn't help being melancholic about tough, had been burned. Ashes, dust, broken pieces of wood and of metal and of bricks, everything soiled the light blue fitted carpet Harry had commanded without her agreement. It had angered her then, but now her hate for Voldemort had taken the best.

Voldemort had led it all be destroyed.

Who else could it be? No one except Voldemort and his followers hated Harry enough to do this to him. As a matter of fact, all those who didn't belong to the Dark Side adored the Boy Who Lived unconditionally. Hermione clenched her fists too, but she didn't feel the urge of crying, just of taking revenge. Her cheeks burned, and she knew she was blushing, not of shame but of fury.

She grabbed one of the last entire objects; a vase Charlie Weasley had brought from Romania and threw it on the ground. It spitted in hundreds of pieces and made a piercing sound.

Harry shot around and threw her a deadly glance.

"Do you really need to make it worse?"

"As if it wasn't the end."

Harry was furious, but he didn't have the strength of quarrelling with his wife who only followed her emotions when she was angry and didn't think of a solution. But he, he thought. He wouldn't let them squash him like a beetle. He'd fight. He'd show them who he was. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived and who was determined to go on with his precious life. Oh, he'd fight.

"Let's look for a hotel."

"At this hour of the night?"

"Have you got a better idea?"

She hadn't, but she didn't answer. Dignity was one of the few things she had still.

"Actually, yes, I have" she said suddenly. "What about asking the Weasley twins if they can accommodate us tonight?"

Harry hated asking others for favors, it offended his natural pride. He, son to Lily and James Potter, who had survived uncountable duels with Voldemort, was supposed to ask others for help? Then again, he thought a little bit of modesty would do him no bad.

"OK; OK."

Hermione didn't even smile to him, or hug him, or do anything wives usually do when their husbands grant them a wish. And that after all what he had done for her. He'd given her richness, a great job, and fame. Now, everybody knew the little mud blood Hermione Granger, who had nothing of a flirt and whom nobody would have noticed if it weren't for her excellent marks, had married the great, the famous Harry Potter.

And all this because he loved her. Because he loved her so much.

Hermione wasn't the woman of his dreams; she was pretty, but not someone exotically intoxicating like he had wished. She was smart, but somewhat ill at ease, friendly, but often egoistic and self-centered. But Harry loved her. He didn't know when exactly he had fallen in love with Hermione, but he had realized one day he loved her more than his life; and later, he had asked for her hand. Through tears and laughter, she had accepted, visibly untouched by the honor but rather by the surprise. She had first stared at him, then asked if it was a joke (laughing) then if he was just making fun of her (weakly crying, because they were surrounded by a curious mass of wizards) and then had just stared at him. Seeing he had said it seriously, she had looked around, and then she had nodded, very slowly, as if she wasn't realizing it. And then she had agreed.

The day of their marriage hadn't been the happiest day of Harry's life. He had wanted a simple, discrete wedding with their closest friends; Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, perhaps Dean, Seamus, Lavender and the Patil twins. And that was all. But Hermione had been more ambitious. She had wanted her parents, of course, and all those which she had known at school. Had she wanted to show everybody she was engaged to Harry? Or was it just feminine coquetry and the wish of bragging with her expensive bride dress? Harry had never known it, and he had not wanted to investigate. He was just happy, and nothing could harm his happiness. He was married to the woman he loved, it was peace, and there were no Voldemorts and no Malfoys to make his life a living hell. 

They had rented a nice and spacious flat, and had been happy for some months. Then war had been declared, and the hell had broken out. Harry's entire heavenly life had broken into pieces around him, like a bubble, like a childish burst dream.

And now Hermione had already vanished and was certainly asking the Weasley twins for asylum, he wondered for the first time:

_Did I take the right decision? Did I do the right thing asking her to marry me?_

But it was just an excuse to push away the other question which had haunted his mind since he had seen Hermione come back in the middle of the night with her lips so strangely swollen. He had wondered what she had been doing, especially because her cheeks had been in fire and she hadn't wanted to talk much about her adventures. She was so reserved, so quiet, and never talked about her emotions.

_Does she love me?_

***

"Was that necessary? Destroy their home?" Draco asked raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Max Shafer rolled his gray eyes and smiled mischievously.

"Now they have nowhere to go."

"So what? They'll flee, idiot."

"Oh, no. Potter's much too proud to go away."

_And Hermione?__ Isn't she too much in love with her life to stay bravely?_ Draco asked to himself. Hermione wasn't exactly altruistic, and, though she was purely good, she mostly thought about her own wealth and health, and only later about heroism and patriotism. But Hermione wasn't the one Voldemort wanted to kill of his own hands. If he had anything like this.

Drums reverberated in the huge room which was their meeting place, surely an old plane garage which the Death Eaters had let be renovated by muggle slaves. Used to the usual darkness, Draco looked around and smiled at the numerous stupid but beautiful women which were always in their meeting place to amuse them. The rare female Death Eaters had also some good-looking and sexy men to be distracted by, but today, Draco was not in the right mood to enjoy the company of the beauties. His mind was off somewhere else.

_Hermione.___

Was she beautiful? Was she attractive? Was it lust that gave him the urge of kissing her soft, pulpous lips? Or was it love?

He smirked.

_Malfoys__ don't love. And Death Eaters still less. I'm both, so Granger – Potter – is just another idiot who would yield to my charms. If I wanted it._

Did he want it?

"Malfoy?"

"What?" he replied irritated. He hated it when someone interrupted his thoughts.

"We found this in the Potters' flat, and I was wondering whether…"

"Show it to me."

Max Shafer handed him a book, and Draco had to smile reading its title:

_Gone with the Wind.___

He laughed. He hadn't thought stuff like this could interest the bookworm Hermione. Skimming through the book, he noticed with amusement that she had even highlighted some parts, like when Rhett kissed Scarlett after their flight from the burning Atlanta. Mainly love scenes.__

_Granger, Granger, he thought teasingly. I wonder how bad Potter has to be in bed if you refuge yourself in love stories._

But then, something fell from the book, and Draco stared at it. It was a wand. And the others were so stupid, they hadn't even noticed it. She had used her wand to keep the page.

There she was. Defenseless. Having not even her wand to protect her. Well, there was still Potter, but Malfoy wasn't afraid of him.

_Here I come, Granger,_ he thought. _Prepare yourself for another fiery kiss. _


	9. Chapter 9: The Prisoners

Chapter 9: The Prisoners

_Hiya! Here I am again, though – sniff – no one reviews my story except some _**wonderful**_ people like _**piper**, **miss malfoy**, **amber**_ etc. (TO BE COMPLETED)_

_What the hell is wrong with it? Well, yes, I know, _**May/dreaming one **_might give me really good advises again, but I just can't change my way of writing though I may improve the page setup – I thank you, _**May**_, though. At any rate, I'll do my best, and who doesn't review my story SUCKS. Sorry, sorry, that doesn't mean you don't have to read it. I humbly apologize. But please, READ&REVIEW_

_~Alba_

Hermione scanned the debris with horror, unable to take her eyes away from the cute collection of Quidditch player models that had laid on a chest of drawers in Fred Weasley's bedroom and was now only a mass of molten plastic. Then again, there wasn't much that hadn't been burned of torn to pieces in the flat.

Just like in their house, the Weasley twins' flat had been as good as razed to the ground. Furniture, decorations, food, everything was destroyed and irretrievable. It was just inhuman. Then again, Death Eaters and this kind of "people" _were_ inhuman.

"It's intolerable." Harry said rushing towards her after having quickly examined the rubbish that was left of the twins' modest but comfortable home. "Really."

"I'm not sure it's worse than kidnapping Fred and George." Hermione replied bitterly.

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then gave a glance at the disaster in front of him. Then he sat down on the ground, careless of the dirt.

"It's terrible. Terrible." He repeated this word on and on, so that it irritated his wife awfully and she made him be quiet with an impatient wave of her hand and a disdainful glance.

"It doesn't help them in any way if you just stay here and complain about the facts." She said dryly.

"Then what do you propose?" was his ice-cold question.

Hermione hunched her shoulders, and looked away. She should be more patient, sweeter with Harry, after all, he had done nothing wrong.

_Nothing wrong but making me unhappy_, she thought. But after all, it was her who had accepted his offer of marriage, he hadn't forced her. So it wasn't his fault, it was hers. Her fault if now, she was furious against her husband whom she blamed for his prissiness and lack of dignity.

As if hearing her thoughts, Harry got up, and held his head high, his green eyes piercing the darkness – because of course, the Death Eaters had cut all the electric wires. Then he turned around, his robes flying behind him, and he only said he was going to the _Two-Headed Dragon_ before vanishing.

Hermione Potter stayed in the darkness for a while, sitting down on a piece of wood too, placing her head between her knees. Voldemort had taken away everything, her home, her friends, and all she believed in, her hope. Now, she felt she couldn't blame Harry for losing trust in a happy end and depressing, because she herself felt her trade mark obstinacy for never giving up vanish like Harry had.

_Harry._

All she had left.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters had taken away everyone else, maybe, at this hour, her parents were either dead or prisoners of the Dark Wizard. Maybe no one of those she loved was alive by now.

_Malfoy._

He had done all this. It was all his fault and she had kissed him, and actually enjoyed it.

She felt anger arising in her again; she felt her blood boiling in her veins. Hermione shot up, and kicked a pillow which had been cut open. The remaining feathers flew up, spiraled in the air, and then fell over Hermione. She closed her eyes, sensing the touch of the feathers on her bare arms, and then vanished as well, following Harry.

***

Lavender slowly lifted her sore head, and saw white points in front of her eyes, so she closed them again. Obviously, someone had either drugged her or knocked her down brutally. It was rude anyway.

"Lavender? Are you alright?"

Stupid question. Of course she wasn't. Passing her long fingers over the ground on which she was lying, she noticed it was wet and dirty, and she shot up with horror. If there was something she hated, then it was mud.

She looked around her, and, in the darkness, hardly saw Dean and Seamus next to her, and she deduced the long brown braid on the ground belonged to Padma or Parvati.

"Dean? Seamus?"

Dean nodded, and said they were both there, with Padma, Parvati, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins.

"Neither Parvati nor Fred have woken up." One of the older Weasleys, who had to be George, explained, and looking at him carefully, Lavender saw that a long bruise crossed his face. Seamus bled abundantly from his left shoulder, and Ginny had a large, purple stain on her forehead that showed someone had had to give her a strong blow not very long ago. The tips of Padma's fingers and a strand of her chestnut colored hair were partially burned, while Ron wasn't visibly wounded, but his eyes were surrounded by dark rings. As for Dean, he limped, and all of them looked tired and hungry and thirsty.

"What happened?" Lavender asked.

"Let's see if you guess it." Ron mocked dryly before closing his eyes.

"Shut it, Ron, it's not her fault." George said.

"Death Eaters." Was Padma's quick explanation. "They came in our flats, destroyed everything and made us prisoners. It's that easy to understand."

"You surely have fainted early." Ginny added, not without an inkling of disdain.

Lavender sighed, and turned back to Dean and Seamus.

"Where are we?"

The two men hunched their shoulders.

"I don't know, Lavender, I don't know, otherwise we'd have a chance of getting out of here. But I was brought here unconscious, and, since we lack of windows, I can't orientate myself. We could be anywhere."

"And they took our wands." Ron added. "And for some reason, we can't teleport from here. It must be shielded somehow."

"Merlin, but that's terrible!" Lavender exclaimed.

"Really? It's good you say it, I hadn't noticed it before." Ginny mocked.

"What's wrong with you Weasleys today? We're all tired and hungry, but it's of no use if we quarrel now." Dean said, and concluded the conversation.

They fell into silence again.

"And Harry?" Lavender asked then, while Parvati was waking up slowly.

"He isn't here. Nor Hermione." George replied.

"So they might be safe still, mightn't they?"

Ron gave her a sarcastic glance and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly think there is anyone who's safe now?"

***

"Here, my gringotts-card. My name is Potter."

The receptionist's pleasing features were emphasized by a discrete makeup, but she had the most hypocrite smile Harry had ever seen in his life. Yet her eyes shone when she learned that he was the famous Boy Who Lived And Was Now A Man Who Wasn't Yet Dead Despite You-Know-Whose Efforts.

"What an honor, sir." The receptionist said.

Hermione appeared at his side, and looked at him for a moment. Then she looked away, tears of anger blinding her.

"One double room, please" Harry said.

His wife gazed at him again, drying her eyes, but she clenched her fist and said as firmly as she could:

"Please, Harry, could we have two separate rooms only for this night? I… It's just…"

Harry's expression hardened at once, and his look became ice-cold. Yet he nodded slowly, and asked for two separate single rooms. He handed one of the magic cards to the rooms inside which one could only enter with this card, and then wished her good night. He vanished, leaving Hermione alone in the hall.

She surprised the receptionist smiling again, sadistically this time, and gave her a smirk. Then she asked if they had pajamas to lend, and the receptionist answered they had, not without another variant of her smile which told "here you are, the famous Harry Potter's wife, not even having a pajama to sleep." And Hermione felt awfully humiliated, though things like these wouldn't have worried her some years ago.

_I have changed so much during my time with Harry,_ she thought. _And not precisely in a good way._

The receptionist handed her a light pink pajama with a suitable dressing gown and offered her a toothbrush too. Scrambling her last bit of dignity, Hermione accepted, and then vanished as quickly as possible. 

Thanks to her magic card, she reappeared in her room, which was quite big and luxurious but looked awfully dull to her, with its ivory-colored walls and the big four-poster bed made of ebony. Then only she reminded herself that one could change the decoration if one wished, and groped for her wand in her coat's pockets. But it wasn't there.

With an inkling of panic, Hermione frantically searched the wand in her other pockets and in her little handbag, but it was nowhere. She vanished and went to the ruins of their apartment; put the debris upside down, without success. She went to the Weasley twins' flat, passed hours looking for her wand, and finally went back to her room, exhausted.

_What will I do without my wand?_ She thought. _It's terrible, it's the only thing I can't live without. And what shall I do if someone attacks me? Make a karate kick? Oh, Merlin._

And then she fell asleep.

It's odd, but what woke Hermione up was the darkness.

She had forgotten to switch the lamp off when she had fallen asleep, and, when it suddenly went off, she shot up.

She rubbed her eyes and looked around her, first searching for her wand to say a _Lumos_ spell, and then reminding herself painfully she had lost it.

Her brown eyes scanned the shadows, looking for the switch.

She froze.

She looked again.

There it was. Two round marbles of silver, shining and floating in the dark. Looking closer, she distinguished a glimpse of gold above the silver, and slowly, a face, ghostly pale but of a terrifying attractiveness. The rest of the body was plunged in the obscurity.

"Malfoy?" she whispered, crawling back.

_Ohhhh, cliffhanger, am I not? Hehehe. Well, I'm sadistic. But, if there's anyone reading this, know that it's the fault of those who don't review if I end it here…. For the moment. Review, and there will be more of Draco's and Hermione's love story._


	10. Chapter 10: True Love Never Dies

Chapter 10: True Love Never Dies

_Disclaimer: don't own any of the characters except Morgan, Max and Mildred. _

Morgan brushed her wavy black hair slowly, taking pleasure in it. The strands of her hair curled around her white neck like little snakes, and she smiled to her reflection in the mirror. Candle light made her look still more beautiful than usually, unleashing what she really was; a creature of the night, bathing in shadows and the twilight of those who can't decide between good and evil.

She fastened a ruby necklace around her neck and she smoothened the silky fabric of her jet-black dress while she got up and took a look at her long legs which seemed still longer because of her lovely high-heeled sandals.

She saw Mildred Prebble's reflection next to hers, and grinned again as she noticed she was torturing a strand of pale blonde hair and swinging her legs nervously. There were people who simply couldn't stay poised. But Morgan was one of those who could. She never lost her self-control, or almost never. She was always calm, cold.

"Give me my hair clip, Mildred." Morgan ordered.

It was a complicate jewel made of interlaced threads of jet and decorated with little rubies, a gift from her husband that she had got the day of their marriage. One of the numerous presents he had spoiled her with.

Draco would have put the world to her feet if it hadn't already been within her reach. He was rich, and he was glad he had got the woman he had wanted. As long as Morgan could remember it, the young Malfoy had courted her, with his usual malice and elegance. During parties, he would always invite her to dance, he would tell the guests how beautiful she was, how admirable. The entire underworld had expected them to marry one day. The expectations had been satisfied this sunny day of November, when the cold had vanished to let place to agreeable warmth, as if the weather itself would feast with the young couple that embodied the future of the underworld. Two wonderfully skilled wizards, united forever.

It had been a lovely dream.

But dreams didn't survive in the reality.

Maybe Morgan had always known Draco would betray her, one day or the other. He was like a child who cried for a toy and broke it when he had it. He had wanted her, he had got her, and then he had grown tired of her. It was this easy. And now she wanted revenge, never mind what she had said. And she knew how to get the vengeance she desired so eagerly.

A voice in her back sent chills down her neck, and someone passed rugged hands over her bare shoulders.

"So where is he?" came the voice.

Morgan smiled in the candle light.

"In the _Two-Headed Dragon_."

***

Afterwards, Hermione never knew who had made the first move. All that she remembered was that they were undressing each other, almost tearing their clothes away, and she was in his arms and there was a wild, untamed rush in their lovemaking, and after that, a measured and effortless melting, with soft, loving kisses that replaced the passionate, burning ones. It was the most wonderful feeling Hermione had ever experienced. They were together during hours, and it was magical. Draco was insatiable, giving and demanding at the same time. And he went on forever, once, and again, and again, and again...

He was an animal. And Hermione thought: _Oh, Merlin, I am one too._

Draco must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, he was lying next to Hermione. A sheet was chastely put over her naked body, and he took the time of admiring her naïve, simple beauty, comparing her to his wife. While Morgan was intoxicating, provocative and bewitching, Hermione had the sweet and childish charm of those who have never tasted the bitterness of hate and life. They were so completely different…

But he loved her.

Hermione?

Yes, he loved Hermione, he had to. He had had sex so many times before, but this had been love. He had not only had sex, he had _made love_. 

_With a mudblood_, he thought with a smirk. _But somehow, it doesn't matter any more._

Because when they had made love, there had been no mudblood or pureblood, no good or evil, no enemies. There had just been Hermione and Draco, neither Potter nor Malfoy.

But Draco knew their pasts would catch up with them, if Voldemort didn't do it before. He had to leave quickly, or he'd be discovered. And what if Potter came into the room and saw him? Draco wasn't afraid of him, but Hermione was. And he didn't want to hurt her. It was strange, but he really didn't want her to.

He got up, and started putting on his clothes again. Once he was completely dressed, he gazed at Hermione again, and saw that her dark eyes were wide open, staring at him. He couldn't look away.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Away."

"So this meant nothing? You just wanted to entertain yourself one more night?"

A part of Draco's mind urged him to say _yes, and I've had a lot of fun, thank you_, but the other cried _no!_ With no further explanation.

Hermione grabbed her light pink nightdress and put it on, as if there was still a part of her body she could hide from Draco. Why did it hurt her to realize the night hadn't meant anything to him? She hated him; he had taken her with force, hadn't he? She hadn't _wanted_ to have sex with him.

"How did you get in, anyway?" she asked.

"Good wizards aren't stopped by stupid magic cards." He laughed.

She looked at him for a long time, and then tore her eyes away to stare out of the window.

"Why don't you go?"

"I should."

She nodded, and turned away from him. She waited a couple of minutes, but he was still there, so she walked towards the small balcony, and stepped out into the chill of the night, looking at the city under her feet. Suddenly she felt cold lips on her neck, and she shivered.

"Get away from me." She muttered, but she was too weak, and Draco was so strong. He kissed her neck again and again, as if he couldn't get enough of the taste of her skin.

"I hope you're having fun, Malfoy." She hissed.

He didn't lose time answering, and only kissed her lips fervently, forgetting the differences between their two worlds once more.

"Malfoy, go away!" she repeated.

"Maybe I will." he answered this time, and imprisoned her lips in a kiss once more. "But my name is Draco."

And then they made love again.

As they lay exhausted on Hermione's bed, she whispered:

"Why?"

And he couldn't answer, although she repeated her question obsessively. They stayed silent for a while, and Hermione began thinking about Harry. Now it was more than just a kiss that felt heavy on her conscience. This was adultery. If he ever found out… she noticed she was shivering, and covered herself with a sheet. He'd hate her forever, but, most of all, he'd be hurt. And everybody would soon know that Hermione Potter had betrayed the man which half of the witches would sell their grandmothers to sleep with. She'd be thrown out of the society. There was so much she could lose, only by not throwing Draco Malfoy out of her room, and why was she doing this?

"Because I love you."

Hermione's eyes stared at the darkness. What?

He squeezed her in his strong arms, and kissed her forehead. She felt happy for a brief moment, and then the hell broke out.

The ceiling collapsed over their heads, and Draco just had enough time to build a magic bubble around them. The pieces of the ceiling rebounded on the bubble, the dust stayed stuck on it. There was an infernal uproar, it seemed to Hermione that the whole world was breaking over her head, and she closed her eyes. Draco held her close, his gray eyes staring at the growing disaster. And then it stopped suddenly. The entire ceiling had fallen down; the room was drowned in debris. With a wave of his wand, Draco pushed the rubbish over their bubble away, and then let it burst, helping Hermione to stand over the wreckage.

"What was _this_?" she whispered terrified.

_Voldemort_, Draco thought, but he didn't utter a word. A green smoke began materializing in front of them, and panic gripped his heart. He shoved her back, protected her with his own body.

"Go away…" he whispered.

"What?"

"Go away!" the smoke was taking form, Draco could clearly distingue Morgan's, Mildred's and Max's shape, and there was the strange, snake-like form that characterized Voldemort behind them…

"Quickly!" he screamed to Hermione.

"Who is it? Oh, Draco! It's… it's…"

"Yes, it's Voldemort, and now go!"

"What will he do to you?"

"I don't know, but for heaven's sakes, do what I say!"

Hermione was terrified, she was afraid of dying. But she suddenly answered with disarming calmness:

"No, I won't leave you here alone."

Draco stared at her disbelievingly.

"What?"

"I'll stay with you."

He shook his head, giving furtive glances to the outlines in the smoke that were becoming sharper and sharper.

"No!" he shouted to her. "You can't, he'll kill you!"

Hermione seemed to hesitate, and then she started:

"But I have to help you…"

"Without your wand? Don't be stupid."

And then he pointed his' on her, and muttered a spell. He only had enough time to hear her scream, and then she vanished, letting him alone with Voldemort, his wife and the two worms.

Hermione reappeared in Harry's room, most to her surprise. Draco had sent her to the place he believed she'd be the safest, and she couldn't help feeling a wave of tenderness as she thought that he had wanted to protect her.

Harry was sleeping, which first dumbfounded Hermione, but then she remembered the rooms were magically made silent during the night; the neighbors could make as much row as they wanted, Harry would never hear it. She shook him brutally, though she didn't know exactly what he could do to help the man who had always been his worst enemy after Voldemort.

"What… Mimi?" Harry said rubbing his eyes.

"Get up, Harry, quick!"

"What is it? Why do you wake me up in the middle of the night?"

"Voldemort wants to kill Draco."

Harry's perfect black eyebrows arched, and then he smirked.

"Great."

Hermione stared at him, and only then remembered that she would have reacted like this only a few days before.

"No, it's not great!" she yelled. "You can't let Draco die."

"Why?"

"Because… because…"

_Because I love him_, she thought, but she didn't say it. It would make Harry lose only more time, and she had to save Draco, she had to.

"Because he's become good." She said instead. "And he knows all of Voldemort's secrets, and this is why he wants to slay him now."

Harry stayed speechless and astonished for a while, but then he said slowly:

"Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly.

"This can't be." He affirmed.

"Please, go and see yourself," she urged and pulled him out of his room.

"Oh, Merlin."

Harry Potter only had enough time to stare at the disaster before he noticed Morgan, Mildred, Voldemort and someone else he didn't know were surrounding Draco, who just looked up proudly, holding his chin high.

Voldemort's snake head tilted, and his thin lips arched in a smirk.

"The famous Harry Potter." He hissed. "This will be… a funny…. night."

"Stay behind, Mimi." Harry said, and he drew his wound to cast a protection spell around them.

Morgan stared at the two of them before smiling as well.

"Why don't you go home and think the world is beautiful, Potters? These are no matters of yours."

"You just want to take revenge, don't you, Morgan?" Draco said. "Why don't you have the courage of killing me yourself, then?"

Her black eyes narrowed, and she didn't answer.

"At any rate" Voldemort said. "We'll both…have… our revenge… Morgan."

And then he pronounced the Avada Kedavra on Draco. Harry yelled a protective spell, but his magic barrier broke, and Draco was struck by a green lightning. As he realized it was a mortal spell, his heart missed a beat, but it missed also the next, and the next…

Hermione screamed, tried to run towards him, but the protection spell that Harry had cast before prevented her from doing any further step. She smacked her fists against, and cried, and fell to her knees, but through her tears, she saw Draco's body slowly falling on the gray stones of the ceiling, and she could only yell:

"I love you too." And then she fainted.

***

Ron and Lavender stared at each other, and then at the rest of the group of prisoners. It was still unbelievable that Malfoy had freed them, and they couldn't understand why he had done it.

"I've always said he was too gorgeous to be evil." Ginny said, but everybody ignored her.

"There has to be a reason." Fred insisted. "Maybe it's another trap."

"Yeah, well, anyhow, we should look for Harry and Mimi." Lavender said. "They might be in danger, if our kidnapping was organized to weaken them, as we think."

For once in his life, Fred thought Lavender had had a smart thought, and he immediately decided to obey.

"But how will we search without our wands?" George asked. "Malfoy's just thrown us out; I don't even know where we are."

"But I do" Dean said, looking around. "This is the _Two-Headed Dragon_."

They looked at one another, and then began asking questions all at the same time.

"Just shut up, right?" Ron yelled. "There's no point in discussing about it now. He's got to have a reason for sending us here."

"Yeah, maybe it's to catch us again and then say to Harry the typical ultimatum like: _if you don't give up, I'll kill your friends_." Parvati proposed.

"And why has he freed us for it? He could have kept us prisoners and it wouldn't have changed anything." Seamus said wearily. "No, there's got to be something behind it."

"He's become good." Ginny said.

"Yeah, and pigs have learned how to fly." Fred mocked. "There's a smart plan behind it."

"Well, we won't find out if we stay here" Dean affirmed. "We ought to go in."

Strangely, this simple proposal made them all be quiet, and they nodded quickly. 

Inside, the pretty receptionist looked at them with an inkling of surprise. She might be used to all kind of queer wizards who passed the night at the hotel, but these were definitely queerer than the average.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

"Have Mr. and Mrs. Potter a room here?" Padma said.

"Yes." The receptionist replied after a quick look at her magic crystal balls. "Two rooms, as a matter of fact. But you can't go in."

"We're their friends." George said.

"Do you have any proof for it?"

"Listen" Ron said. "Don't you recognize us? My name is Ron Weasley, and this is my sister Ginny, my brothers Fred and George, and these are Padma and Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown…"

The receptionist's face lit up with a smile when she said excitedly:

"Oh, I know you. You're Aurors."

Ginny clasped her hands.

"Great" Fred mocked. "Finally."

"Now let us meet Mr. and Mrs. Potter." Dean ordered.

***

Harry could only watch Draco die, but he didn't manage to feel sorry. If it was true that he had become good… well. He had been evil for so many years, he'd probably never really be good again. At any rate, if Hermione had believed him, then maybe he had been worth being saved, but… there had been nothing to do. And now Voldemort was on him again.

He raises his wand; Harry mutters a spell and jumps aside. The wall behind him explodes, makes him cough because of the dust. A stone falls on his knee, Harry cries out in pain. It's probably broken. Harry tries to ignore the hurt and points his own wand at the enemy, his tears blinding him. The time seems to stop; sparkles come out of their wands. An explosion of light signalizes the meeting of the two spells, and they vanish. Harry thinks of a charm with which he could defeat Voldemort, and then, the simplest one occurs to him.

"Expelliarmus!"

But it isn't him who says it.

His wand flies out of his hand, lands five meters beside him. Voldemort grins, prepares to attack again, and this time, Harry is helpless. He closes his eyes, while he tries to crawl towards his wand, but he knows there is no escape. This time, it's done. He'll die. And all this because he had wanted to save this Malfoy…

He vaguely hears the Avada Kedavra spell Voldemort wants to cast at him, and tries to hold his chin high, like Draco did before he was slain. At least, he should die dignifiedly, like his parents. He gives his wife a last look, she is so beautiful and so vulnerable…

And then he hears a noise, and he thinks it's all over.

Harry looked up, blinking because of the dust in the air. He stared at Voldemort's body, lying on the ground, and then saw nine little shapes crushing his face on the ground and boxing his back. Morgan, Max and Mildred raised their wands, but two tall and muscled shapes stood up and kicked Max and Mildred as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Two women started dragging Morgan's hair, but she was strong, she pushed them away and started lifting the others from Voldemort's body with spells. Then Harry became conscious of what was happening again, and he crawled towards his wand, though every move was awfully painful. When he finally squeezed it in his hands, he shouted another charm. Morgan was thrown against a wall, and then she looked at Harry. Then she vanished, and Voldemort cried out in pain as Ron – because it was him – started hitting him with a piece of the ceiling.

"Guys!" Harry yelled, and he limped towards them. He had never been so happy to see them before.

Seamus told him to go away, and all the others did too. The strong young man lifted up an enormous stone, and threw it with all his power on Voldemort's head. The body stopped moving, and Harry profited of the enemy's unconsciousness to pronounce the Avada Kedavra spell, thinking how often it had been used this night. A bolt struck Voldemort, and he went up in smoke. And this it was.

When Hermione woke up, everything was finished. Dean, Ron and Seamus had gone away with Voldemort's body; Harry was letting his broken leg be healed by a couple of nurses, Fred and George were congratulating themselves, and Parvati, Lavender, Padma and Ginny were weeping of happiness.

Hermione blinked, and shot up. Immediately, all the present witches and wizards wanted to hug her, but she pushed them away.

"Where is Draco?" she asked faintly.

They looked at one another.

"Well…"

"Where?"

"His body has been carried away, darling." Parvati said patting her shoulder.

"What?"

"He's probably being buried by now. He tried to be good, in the last moment, you know." Lavender continued.

Hermione felt dazed. What had happened? _He's probably being buried by now._ It meant he was… dead. But he couldn't be, he was strong and smart, no one could kill him, not even Voldemort… 

"Is he dead?" she whispered.

The girls nodded eagerly, not knowing how much it hurt Hermione.

"But Harry's safe!" Ginny said.

But Hermione didn't care about Harry, she wanted Draco, she loved him, and now he was dead, before they had had the occasion of enjoying each other. Why was life always so unfair? She collapsed on the ground and felt a sudden urge of crying and never stopping, but the tears wouldn't come, so she just bumped her head against the rests of the wall and then hit it with her little clenched fists.

"It's not fair! It's not fair!" she repeated on and on, but no one understood why she was so desperate about the death of a man who had always been her enemy before. 

***

Even in the later time, Harry never told anyone about the last words Draco had ever heard; a desperate declaration of love. Harry and Hermione didn't divorce. Hermione didn't ask it, and Harry didn't propose it. Maybe he knew she needed him to survive, now that Draco was dead. Maybe he still loved her. However, he never talked about him. But she never talked about anything else either. It was as if she had suddenly become unable to speak.

She had really loved someone during one night, only one night in her life, and true love was never replaced. When Draco had died, a part of her had followed him into the grave, never to get out of it.

***

TEN YEARS LATER

_Every night in my dreams  
I see you, I feel you,  
That is how I know you go on  
  
  
_

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night. She looked at her watch. It was time. It was exactly half past eleven, the time when she had opened her eyes ten years ago and had distinguished Draco's silver eyes, shining in the darkness. She woke up every night at the same time, since his death.

_Far across the distance  
And spaces between us  
You have come to show you go on  
  
_

She looked around, scanning her little room for his presence. She and Harry no longer shared the same room. Her husband had been nice, he had understood her. He wasn't that bad, after all. He was a loving, caring man, and she admired and liked him. But she couldn't love him. She couldn't love anyone like she had loved Draco.

_Near, far, wherever you are  
I believe that the heart does go on  
Once more you open the door  
And you're here in my heart  
And my heart will go on and on  
  
_

She got up, extending her arms to touch his skin, waiting for him to meet her. She could almost feel him, close to her. She could almost sense his hot breath on her neck.

_Love can touch us one time  
And last for a lifetime  
And never let go till we're one  
  
_

_Love was when I loved you  
One true time I hold to  
In my life we'll always go on_  
  


Hermione walked towards her window. She had demanded a room that was perfectly alike to the one she had had in the Two-Headed Dragon, so that she could relive the magic moments of her first and last night with Draco. Every night, it was the same. She always did exactly the same movement, experienced the same sensation of happiness and sorrow at the same time. At half past eleven in the night, it was as if Draco Malfoy came back to life, as if he was there in her room with her again.

_Near, far, wherever you are  
I believe that the heart does go on  
Once more you open the door  
And you're here in my heart  
And my heart will go on and on  
  
There is some love that will not go away  
  
_

In the darkness of the night, it was as if Hermione could see his shape, could caress his golden hair, could kiss his smooth and cold skin, as if he was there with her, telling her he loved her, repeating her name on and on. He was dead, but he was alive in her memory.

_You're here, there's nothing I fear,  
And I know that my heart will go on  
We'll stay forever this way  
You are safe in my heart  
And my heart will go on and on  
  
_

THE END

So this is it. I hope you've all liked it. Please don't flame me, I really had to finish it like this. If people had reviewed, then maybe I would have written a happy end J. I apologize for the errors, same thing as always. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW.

~Alba


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